Hunted
by Tragediane
Summary: G Callen is hunted by a mysterious unsub who will stop at nothing to kill him. Story begins with no slash relationship between G and Sam and slowly progresses toward it. G/Sam Slash.
1. Crash

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

I originally wanted to write this as a "T" rated story. My muse decided it was meant to be another "M" rated slash story. I am going with his recommendation. ;)

**Title: Hunted**

**Rating: M**

**Story Premise: ** G Callen is hunted by a mysterious unsub who will stop at nothing to kill him and anyone who stands in his way. Story begins with no slash relationship between G and Sam. G/Sam slash.

**Category: **A tragedy/hurt/comfort story.

**WARNINGS:**

**Slash: G/Sam**

**Darkfic: **Story includes mental, emotional, and physical trauma. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) with flashbacks, nightmares, reliving the trauma, night terrors, anxiety and panic attacks, etc.

**Whump: **A major G Callen whump ahead.

**DISCLAIMER: **NCIS: Los Angeles and its characters are owned by CBS and the producers of it. I do not own anything, but if I did I would torture G Callen more and make him cry and suffer and have plenty of angst. I am grateful to CBS and the producers of NCIS: LA for their contribution to the world of entertainment.

_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. This is a work intended for entertainment __**outside the official storyline**__ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA._ I gain no profit from the creation and publication of this story.

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**Crash**

**Chapter 1**

G sucked in air and held his breath. Cold air collided with the heated air in his lungs. He stifled a whimper, holding his breath longer this time, preventing himself from passing out again. A stabbing pain coursed through his lungs, traveled down his body, changing to pulsing and lingering shooting pains in both legs. G heard it again; the faint sound of his partner's voice, sounding as if it came from within and outside his head all at once. He faced the direction of Sam's voice, trying to figure out where his partner was. The only place on his whole body where he felt no aching or stabbing or pulsing or shooting pains was his head. His mind was clear and foggy; clear that he was injured and foggy on how he got injured.

"G?" His partner's familiar voice. Sam sighed. "Going to get you out of there."

Out of where?

"Don't move."

That would be the easiest command he followed. Nothing worked except moving his head. No body part responded to his brain's command to move them. A horrid thought came to mind. _I am paralyzed. _"Sam?" He needed to know.

"Yes?"

"Why can't I move?"

"I'll get you out in a minute or two."

Maybe his partner wanted to hide the truth from him, keeping him from panicking and keeping him from injuring himself further. A hand thrust through the shattered front windshield into his view, startling him.

"Easy, G."

_I am too freaked out._

Sam edged forward on his belly, hands covered with leather work gloves, thrusting a makeshift gurney before him.

He stared at the skinny yet long gurney. "That's… I'm not that small."

"It'll have to do for now, need you out of there, ASAP."

"Something wrong?"

"Not for you to worry about."

_Something is wrong. Sam is in a 'do not worry about it' mode. Something is __very__ wrong._

"This is going to be the hardest part for you."

"Meaning?"

"Scream all you want," Sam said, "it's going to hurt no matter how I get you out of there."

"Scream all I want, this doesn't sound good."

"Nope." He knocked the shattered glass pieces out of the window, clearing a path for his partner's body and preventing him from further injury. "Ready, on three."

"After?"

"How about during three?"

"Different for a change."

"One." Sam grabbed G's leather jacket by the collar and shoulders.

"What about my seatbelt?"

"Two, I cut it off first." He sucked in a huge breath and braced his body against the Challenger's hood and sides of the windshield.

"I'm ready."

"Three." Sam yanked G face first through the now cleared and opened windshield and onto his improvised gurney.

G held his breath, unwilling to show any weakness to his partner.

Sam flipped him over onto his back and strapped him down with the seatbelts he had cut from the vehicle.

That single move was more than G could tolerate. He cried out, his body shuddering in response to the two abrupt moves.

"Okay?"

"Maybe."

Sam edged the improvised gurney down the hood of his Challenger until it was level with the fender on the driver's side. He jumped off the car and pulled the gurney off it with his partner's head downward and his feet upward. After easing G's feet onto the ground, Sam positioned two more seatbelts into a makeshift handle at the gurney's top. "I'm taking you up this hill."

"Then what?"

"Coming back down for supplies."

"Wait, you're going to leave me up there alone?"

"Got a better plan?"

G thought about his partner's plan for a couple of minutes. "Nope."

"It's happening." Sam wrapped the straps around his chest and started up the steep hill. "Tell me if this is really hurting you."

"That's a given."

Sam stopped and glanced over his shoulder. "Come on, man, I'm mean worse than now."

"I was razzing you." G smirked.

"I'll razz you all right." Sam chuckled. "At least you haven't lost your whole sense of humor."

"Only half of it." He smirked again afraid to laugh considering how awful he felt when he breathed.

Halfway up the hill, Sam stopped to bend over and catch his breath.

"Where are you hurt?"

"Not important right now."

"Really? Since when are your injuries not important. You know that's not going to—"

"G, you've got extensive injuries." He started up the hill again, huffing more with each step upward.

He watched the sky above him through the swaying, covering of Douglas-fir trees. Darker clouds gathered in the distance while overhead fluffier white clouds formed. "A storm is brewing."

"More than a storm." Sam neared the summit of the steep hill which ended in a deep ravine at the bottom. The ravine started filling with water earlier, just after their car crash. The water level had risen three feet in one hour. The Challenger came to rest twelve feet or so above the ravine and the now rushing water.

Miles from the crash site, a flash flood was triggered by a deluge in the high desert.

Sam dragged the improvised gurney up to the roadside and positioned it under a stand of Douglas-fir trees. "You okay?"

He shivered and jerked against the restraints. "Cold."

"Take my jacket for now."

"No, that's not a good idea."

"It is, man, you're going into shock." He removed his jacket and covered his partner's upper body with it. "I'll return with as much supplies as I can bring back."

"Use this gurney."

"Got another one all stacked with my supplies and ready to go."

"Navy SEAL."

"Eagle Scouts."

"How wrong could I be." G smirked. "Don't be gone for too long."

"You'll miss me, right?"

"Something like that." He was more serious than his partner believed. G feared the worst, dying while Sam was bringing back the supplies. He felt odd, no words to describe the feelings deep within him. G had a tenuous hold on life. A darkness prevailed around him and he slid deeper into it, knowing it would soon consume him. G watched Sam disappear over the cliff. He shuddered and shivered, the jacket failing to contain his body heat and protect his vital organs. His eye lids fluttered several times before he passed out again, allowing the darkness to envelope his mind and body.

What seemed as if it were hours later, a hand shook him hard, bringing him back to a foggy awareness of his surroundings.

"G."

"Sam, you're back."

"And you're not supposed to close those eyes."

"Can't help myself."

Sam covered his partner's entire body with an emergency blanket he salvaged from the crushed trunk. He dressed in his jacket again and zipped it up to his neck. Next he covered G's head and his own head with knit caps. "Stay with me, talk to me."

"What are you doing?"

"Making a shelter in case it rains." Sam sawed off tree limbs.

"A saw."

"I carry one in my trunk."

"Navy SEAL."

"Okay, I'll agree, it's a good fallback." He arranged the tree limbs with substantial fronds in a fan-shaped canopy against the tree. He lashed the limbs together with some rope.

"Rope too."

"I need to get a kit together for your trunk."

"Ah, that would be sweet of you." G smirked.

"It might save your life someday."

"You mean like right now?"

"Yes," Sam said, "I'm going to move you again."

"Joy."

"Ready?"

"No counting?"

"Nope." Sam dragged the makeshift gurney under the canopy of tree limbs.

G gritted his teeth, stifling any out cry.

"And more to cover your body and insulate it from the cold." Sam spread the tree limbs over his partner's body.

"I hope we're not planning to spend the night here."

"We've already done that, eight hours so far."

"Eight hours?" G wondered what his partner had done for the past seven hours.

"Yes." Sam removed his cellphone and checked for reception. "Excellent." He autodialed Hetty's number and allowed it to ring. Odd, no answer. Next, he autodialed Eric's number.

"Sam! Where are you? Hetty's worried sick and—"

"I'd love to fill you in on the details, but I've got limited battery life," he said. "I need to you to find us. I don't have a clue where we are, possibly zero in on the Angeles National Forest close to the high desert. It's just a guess. Triangulate the signal and find us."

"Your signal's coming in strong, and I have a tentative location."

"Don't focus on the vehicle," Sam said. "We're about three-hundred feet away from it."

"Three hundred?" G asked.

Sam hushed his partner with a wave of his hand.

"I see three GPS signals."

"Two at my location."

"Yes."

"Zero in on those two and forget the third," he said. "I'm shutting down the second signal to conserve power." Sam turned off G's cellphone.

"I've got Hetty on the line."

"Interesting."

"Why?"

"I tried to contact her first."

"Mr. Hanna, I was indisposed at the time and I'm now available," she said. "We're sending transportation to you—"

"Hetty, G needs immediate medical care."

"Emergency?"

"Yes," he said, glancing sideways at his partner.

"I'll send a medivac for the two of you," Hetty said. "Your Challenger totaled?"

"Yes." Sam sighed. "Unfortunately, better it than us. I'll keep the signal open on this cellphone. Need to tend to G." He ended the call and set the cellphone aside.

"You don't know where we are, Eagle Scout."

"Nope, you?"

"Angeles National Forest close to the desert."

"That's cheating, G, I told Eric that."

"Yep." He smirked.

"Glad you think that's funny."

"Sort of." What was not funny was the growing lack of feeling in his arms and legs. The darkness closed in on him again, threatening to envelope him in its dark shroud and consume him forever. "Sam."

"Yes?"

"Can you… I want the straps off… I… need you to hold me… it's coming again."

"What's coming?"

"The darkness."

Sam scooted over to his partner's side, removed the straps holding him to the improvised gurney and threw the fronds off him. He wrapped him in the emergency blanket, cocooning his partner's body.

"Hold me… I'm losing this battle."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm… hell… dying."

"You're fine."

"No! My arms and legs… there's nothing… I feel nothing… please…."

"This is going to hurt, a lot."

"I don't care, not now, scared of dying."

Sam lifted his partner onto his lap and tucked the emergency blanket around G's limp body. "Don't you dare do this to me."

"Do what to you?"

"Leave me like this."

"What about me?" G shuddered. "Hold me… tighter against you. Too cold."

Sam drew G into his warmth, holding him as close as possible. "You're going to make it, you hear me, you're going to survive."

"Tell that to my arms and legs." He shivered hard, his body spasming from the waves of shudders rippling throughout his body.

"You hold on. You do whatever it takes to survive. You hear me, hear me?"

"I'm trying, Sam, trying hard but it's here, the dark, foreboding feeling which threatens to overwhelm and overtake me." He held his breath again, keeping the pain controlled for another minute or two. Afterward, he released it in slow staccato breaths, not wanting to feel the intense burning in his chest. "Why did you move me up here?"

"The water is rising. A storm is coming. What else? No cellphone reception in the ravine."

"Three-hundred feet, Sam, that's a long ways for you, dragging that makeshift gurney up a steep hill."

"I did it for you," Sam said, "you're my partner."

G smiled. It was the only thing which did not hurt him. His head had started to pound right after Sam called Hetty. Probably high blood pressure from the stress of knowing she now knew where they were and she would be angry. He expected it. It was his idea to search for clues to the ops mission out here in the mountains, close to the high desert. Now he had paid for his curiosity. He hoped it did not cost him his life.

He sank closer to the darkness, allowing it to touch the fringes of his mind and body, and hearing it calling his name again made it easier to let go. His eyelids, heavy with drowsiness, fluttered and closed.

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Thanks for reading.


	2. Coma

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**the bad, **

**and the ugly.**

**Hey, if you do not like slash why read something and make comments? I guess I will never understand readers.**

**WARNING: CLOSER TO SLASH... LOL!**

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**Title: Hunted**

**Coma**

**Chapter 2**

G scanned the hospital room around him. He studied the medical equipment hooked to his body. An endotracheal tube positioned in his throat, scratching and irritating it. A machine forced air into his lungs. An intravenous line dripped fluids into a vein on his left forearm. Another intravenous line dripped a colored liquid into a vein on his right forearm. He surmised it was a painkiller, because he felt no pain throughout his whole body. _I am thankful for that one thing._

Restraints plastered his upper and lower body to the bed. Two handrails raised up, keeping him in the bed as if he were a captured and dangerous animal ready to strike out at someone. _I hate to be restrained by a human or any form._

The incessant beeping from the machines which kept him alive. He wished someone would turn off those alarms and those beeps. _I loath the noises which I cannot turn off._

His partner walked into his room and stood at the bed's foot, lifting a chart and staring at it for too long. G wondered how many times his partner had stared at that chart. _Probably several hundred times in the last week or so._

Sam glanced upward. "G!"

He watched his partner almost dance around the room, afterward rushing out the door.

This was followed by an influx of nurses and a doctor flitting about the room, reading numbers and jotting them down in the chart.

Next a respiratory therapist entered his hospital room. G dreaded this moment, the removal of his endotracheal tube. He heard the man speak and understood his instructions; take a deep breath in and release it, now cough. Out came the nasty tube and with it a plastic aftertaste lingered for too many minutes on his tongue.

A nurse removed the restraints from his body. Freedom to move or so he thought. G attempted to move his limbs and his legs and arms failed to respond to the orders his brain gave them.

His partner came along side him. G glanced at his face and then eyed his own legs and then back up into Sam's face.

"It's going to take time," Sam said.

G mouthed his words without speaking them. "How long?"

"The doctors need to talk to you about this."

"I want you to do it." He mouthed. "How long have I been here?"

Sam folded his arms and turned away from the bedside, strolling toward the far wall and coming back toward his partner. "Too long."

"Tell me."

"You're in a special residential hospital."

"What?" The reality of his physical situation started to sink into his thoughts and emotions. "You mean rehab?"

"Yes."

"Crap." G closed his eyes and turned his head toward the opposite wall. Without glancing over at his partner he asked aloud. "How long have I been here, Sam?" He knew his partner would understand the meaning behind his words. _Stop avoiding the questions and tell me._

"Six months in a drug-induced coma and one month without drugs," Sam said, "after spending two months in the hospital."

G gasped. If he could have covered his mouth with a hand, he would have. "The injuries were that bad."

"Yes, sorry, I couldn't stop them if I wanted to because—"

"Stop, Sam, this isn't your fault."

"It is, man, I was driving the car and I feel responsible and—"

"Sam, your memory is faulty, I was driving the car." He faced his partner again.

"No, if you remember I pulled you through the passenger side of the windshield."

"Then why do I remember it the other way?"

"I don't know, I'm sorry this happened to you," he said, "the road was oil-slicked after drizzling rain and—"

"No, listen to me, you need to listen to me." He was close to yelling now.

"G, you need to calm yourself, this isn't good for you right now."

"Why is my memory altered?" G asked, mouthing his words again. His throat felt as if someone wrapped sandpaper around the endotracheal tube and dragged and twisted it up his throat while removing it. "I swear I thought I was driving."

"No."

"Something different happened somewhere along the way."

"Meaning?"

"I was jarred in my seat." A picture flashed in his mind, ripping through his memory. It was as if someone snapped a picture with a camera and it formed in his mind. At least one thing was certain, his mind functioned well except for the intrusive images threatening to overwhelm him.

The first signs and symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder had surfaced. From these alone he ascertained something horrible had happened to him.

G pushed the images away and tried to focus on the one image he saw repeated in his mind. Some force had jarred him. He swore it came from his left side. Yet if Sam was in the driver's seat then how could that be true. "We go down an embankment to the left?"

"Nope, to your right."

The initial image was correct. G involuntarily shivered. Someone _had _hit them, plunging them over the cliff into the ravine below. "You dragged me three-hundred feet up a steep hill."

"Yes."

"And covered me with boughs of Douglas-fir trees under a stand of trees."

"Yes, I did."

The worst of it came forward in his mind, pushing everything else out of the way. G had asked his partner to hold him in his arms. Searing white-hot pain enveloped his whole body pulling him into a gradual darkness, threatening to take him into an unconscious state. The last words he remembered were Sam pleading with him to hold on and not give into the darkness and death.

G faced the opposite wall again, hiding the tears welling up in his eyes. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, anytime, partner." Sam settled down in a chair by the bedside.

"You held me." He could no longer hold back the torrent of emotions welling up inside him. "I owe my life to you." His voice cracked from the tears dripping down the back of his throat and splashing on his face. He turned to eye his partner and instead stared out the window. For the first time since the accident, G looked at the sky. He was alive thanks to his partner's training in survival skills.

It would not be the last time G needed to depend on his partner's abilities.

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Thanks for reading.


	3. Steps

**Thanks for the encouraging reviews.**

**A truce. Peace be with you, knirbenrots.**

**Closer to slash... not quite there.**

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** Steps**

**Chapter 3**

G stood, holding onto the oak parallel bars and readying himself for the second session of the day. He loathed rehab; the hours he had spent trying to walk even a few steps while holding onto the parallel bars. Countless times his arms and hands failed to respond to the simplest commands from his brain. _MOVE!_ He screamed in his mind and yet nothing happened. His legs and feet were worse yet.

And the worst part was his partner egging him on from the sidelines, encouraging him to take one more step.

Ten steps. It was end of the first month in the exercise room and he had only taken ten steps. G was about to sit down and Sam came along side him.

"Come on you can do this, two more steps, and then you're finished for the day."

"Oh yeah, you try walking when you haven't walked in over ten months!" G shot him a look.

"You're tougher than this."

"You mean _was_."

"No, you're still tougher than this." Sam now stood before him between the two parallel bars. "You're not getting into that wheelchair until you reach me and grab my hands."

"And slug you in the guts."

"If you want."

"Don't think I've got the strength."

"Didn't say that."

"Implied it." G took another step forward, firmly planting his right foot on the non-skid rubber mat which spanned the length of the parallel bars. He grimaced from the pain shooting up and down his legs. G moved his left foot forward, lifting it off the ground as his physical therapist had insisted too many times to count.

He wanted to tape the guy's mouth shut. _Don't slide your foot. Lift your foot. That's it. Lift and place it firmly down next to the other foot._

One more session with the guy and G was going to perform plastic surgery on his lips. He placed his left foot next to his right and sighed.

"Come on, G." Sam took two steps backward.

"You've got to be kidding."

"Nope."

"You're cheating."

"Nope, encouraging."

"You're asking for it."

"And you're going to deliver a punch when you get here."

G lifted his right foot and placed it on the floor and followed it with his left foot. His whole body shuddered hard. He took in a sharp breath and panted in a short staccato pattern which reminded him of the moment before he lost consciousness on the mountain in Sam's arms.

Sam watched his partner for signs of a pending collapse. "Come on, G, you can do this." He stepped backward again and noticed he was at the end of the parallel bars. Sam smiled.

"Happy with yourself?" G smirked and then grimaced.

"Very."

He lifted his right foot and started to lose his grip on the parallel bars. At the last minute, he steadied himself, pushing upward and regaining his upright posture. "Can't."

"You can."

"Too tired."

"Push yourself."

"And fall flat on my face."

"No, hit me."

"I'd love to."

"Come closer and you can."

G gathered his strength within and without, lifting his right foot again and placing it on the floor. He repeated the routine with his left foot. "I'm going to slug you for making me do this."

"I hope so."

He pushed forward, small even steps, coming closer to his partner and his reward, slugging him in the gut. With his last effort, close to the target, G faltered and started to lose his balance. He grabbed the railings with both hands, pulling hard trying to steady himself: A losing battle without the upper body strength. A face plant was imminent.

At the last minute, Sam shoved the wheelchair under his partner's falling body, scooping him into it from behind.

"I still get to punch you," G said, breathless from his overdone exertion.

"You did well."

"You're trying to kill me."

"Nope."

"That's right you saved my sorry butt only to torture me later." G smirked despite his aching sides and throbbing legs and arms.

"It's all in the plans, partner." He brought the wheelchair over to the elevated stretching mats.

"More torture?" He sighed.

"Yes, you know this a necessity after any exertion." Sam helped him onto the mat and sat next to him. "Punch me."

"Come on, I wasn't going to do it."

"No?"

G punched him in the gut.

"Good. Again."

"What?"

"New exercise."

He punched him harder.

"Left hand."

G punched him yet without any strength.

"Just as I thought," Sam said. "I'm bringing a punching bag here next week."

"I like using your body instead." G smirked and chuckled.

"The first time you've laughed since your coming out of the coma." He stood and grabbed his partner's left foot. "Time for part two, stretching and limbering."

"Right, torment and torture."

"At least there's a light at the end of your tunnel."

"An oncoming train?"

Sam shook his head and smiled. He began the routine G's physical therapist had instructed him how to perform after his partner's mandatory exercises. G had insisted that Sam perform them instead of the physical therapist. He knew why too. The guy rattled on and on about the benefits of this and that. Sam watched G's face during the physical therapist's dissertation on the virtues of after exercise stretching and massage. One more long-winded talk and his partner was going to slug the man or do something worse.

G grimaced and his body jerked and trembled with each move Sam performed on his already taxed and exhausted body. "Uncle."

"Nope, five more minutes."

"Two."

"Nope."

"I can't do this any more."

"Relax and allow me to move your legs, you're fighting this."

"I always fight this."

"Take in a deep breath and release it with a long, noisy sigh."

G followed his partner's suggestion.

"Good, two more."

He relaxed more after the next two deep breathing exercises.

"There we are, relaxed and stretched."

"Tortured." G smirked.

"Maybe someday you'll appreciate all my hard work."

"I hope so." He smiled.

Sam shook his head and chuckled. "Okay, finished for today," he said. "Need help getting back into the wheelchair?"

"Nope." G slid into the chair and tried to place his feet on the footrests. "This is ridiculous." He stared at them, trying to will his body to lift his feet.

Sam crouched down and lifted each foot, placing them on the footrests. "That relaxed?"

"Exhausted and ready for bed."

"First the fresh air."

"Not today."

He heard the exhaustion in his partner's voice. "Okay, you've got a reprieve, but just for today." He pushed G toward his private suite at the far end of the rehabilitation hospital. By the time Sam reached the room, his partner was snoring, his head resting on his upturned hand. Sam lifted G into his arms and settled him onto the bed, pulling the sheet and covers over his body.

"Thanks," G whispered, turning over in bed and falling back asleep.

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Thanks for reading.


	4. Reveal

**Thanks for all the great reviews.**

* * *

**Reveal**

**Chapter 4**

A week later, Sam set up a punching bag in the exercise room at the rehab hospital. He pushed his partner's wheelchair over to it. "Okay, time for some training." Sam helped G to stand before the oversized punching bag. "All you're going to do is punch one hand at a time, taking as long a break between punches as you need."

"I think I can do this."

"That's the partner I know."

Yet within himself, G had given up the moment he awakened from his coma. That seemed as if it were months ago. Yet only a month had passed since he first arose from the dead, as Sam had put it. At least that's what it felt like too. Sam had told him that the doctors had not expected him to live past the second week. Yet he made it.

Not only was his strength near non-existent but G had lost thirty pounds. Every waking hour Sam encouraged him to eat more, drink those fluids, and move his body. Inside he felt an ever growing doom heaped with a heavy dose of guilty conscience. He deserved whatever came his way. If it had not been for his stupidity—chasing after clues to a mission in the middle of nowhere—no accident would have occurred and he would not be here rehabilitating from it.

G punched the bag with halfhearted energy, displacing the bag's position only by two to three inches.

"That lacked luster."

He kept his eyes on the floor before him, unwilling to even glance in his partner's direction.

"G?"

He punched the bag with his left, gloved hand, dropping his chin to his chest.

"Come on, man, what's the problem?"

"Can't do this. Too tired. Need to sit down." He grabbed the wheelchair's armrests and plopped down in the seat.

Sam crouched before him, helping his partner place his feet on the footrests. "You were excited about doing this earlier."

"No." G kept his eyes averted from his partner's face.

"Look at me, man, talk to me."

"I did this to myself."

"What?" Sam's eyebrows lifted high.

"I deserve it."

"No one deserves this, you hear me, no one."

"If I hadn't looked for clues elsewhere—"

"No!" Sam grasped his partner's hands. "Don't knock your curiosity. That's where you've always excelled as an undercover agent. That along with an uncanny ability to anticipate the next move of your adversary."

"Then why did this happen?" G said. "What did I do to deserve this?"

"Nothing, man, stuff happens, you and I both know that from every ops we've ever ventured into."

"Every ops?"

"Nothing goes perfectly right every time or we reach a dead end," he said, "and that leads us to another clue."

"True."

Sam straightened and lifted his partner to a standing position. "Let's try this again."

"You don't understand."

"I'm missing something," he said. "Definitely."

G started to sit down again.

"No you don't, you need to—"

"I need to tell you something." He trudged over to the stretching mats, two steps from his position which he managed on his own. A first. He settled down on one of them. G stared out the floor to ceiling windows which brought in warmth and light into the otherwise gloomy exercise room. At least it was gloomy to him.

The typical, supposedly calming light green paint found in most hospital rooms and even in his private room graced these walls too. He reminded himself to throw away the light green paint he found in his garage. After this, the color would be banished from his life forever. The room represented the mistake he made that one day, jaunting through the Angeles National Forest searching for this one clue. One thing for sure, the clue was not part of their ops. G hid that from his partner on the fateful day of the accident.

He faced his partner. Five years they were partners, and he never withheld this kind of information from him. "I left you out of the loop."

Sam eyed him, sitting across from his partner on another stretching mat.

"The accident wasn't your fault."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm telling you about something I neglected to say to you that day."

"G, you're not making sense."

"Check the onboard vehicle cameras from that day."

"You're forgetting how long ago this was."

"You threw out the recordings?" G sighed. This was harder than he imagined it would be, trying to tell his partner what he knew.

"Of course not, but—"

"Listen to me, I'm attempting to tell you something."

"I'm listening."

"We were sideswiped by another car."

"No, I lost control on the rain slicked curve and—"

"No!" G lurched forward, attempting to stand but failing. He still lacked the strength to raise himself off of any surface. His lack of core strength bothered him. If he needed to fend off an attacker, it would be impossible to get a swing at them. _I hate this. I hate my weakness. _"Check the cameras. Please do this one thing for me."

"Humor you?"

"Yes, I guess so, sorry, I know you hate when I do that to you."

"I'll do it for you, but only once," Sam said. "I'll bring them here and we can watch them together."

"But you don't believe me, right?" G sighed. "I know what I saw."

"And what else aren't you telling me?"

A five year partnership was as if they were married, and they acted as if they were at times. Here was one of those times. "First let's watch the videos together."

"And then you'll tell me."

"I promise."

"Shall we?" Sam motioned to the punching bag.

"One or two rounds is all I've got for you."

"I'll take whatever you'll give me." He stood and positioned his body in front of his partner, giving him the strong base to lift G to his feet. "Remember, use your core muscles."

"What core muscles?" G smirked. He grasped his partner's forearms and attempted to hoist his body off the stretching mat. G made it half way before Sam had to grab him by the upper body, lifting him off the mat. He panted, breathless with the move even though his partner had done most of the heavy lifting.

"I think we're going to focus on those core muscles this next week."

"Don't have any to focus on," he said, smiling.

"That's what I mean." Sam chuckled. "As usual, you're a funny guy."

"At least I haven't lost my sense of humor… today." He positioned himself in front of the punching bag.

Sam stood behind his partner. "Okay, close your eyes, and bring your focus to this area." He placed his hands below his partner's solar plexus. "This is your core."

"You coming on to me?" G chuckled.

Sam chuckled. "Nope."

"Good because I'm already married." He glanced over his shoulder at his partner.

"What?" His eyebrows raised high.

"To you and my job."

"Whatever, man."

G chuckled.

"Feel those muscles when you laugh."

"I do."

"Use this center. Throw your punch from this place. Open your eyes. Ready?"

"As soon as you remove your hands."

Sam chuckled and removed his hands while stepping backward.

G threw a punch with his right hand, pushing the bag and displacing it about a half of foot.

"Nice. Again with your left hand."

G threw the second punch, the bag moving about three inches.

"Better than before with your weaker left side. Two more and we'll quit for this morning."

"What?" He glanced over his shoulder again.

"Another session this evening, you need this core work."

G positioned his body, closed his eyes, and focused on his core, imagining it was growing stronger with each punch. He opened his eyes and punched the bag with his right hand. This time the bag moved more than a foot away from him.

Sam reached out to steady it, preventing the bag from coming back at his partner. "Last one."

He refocused on his core, and threw the last punch, pushing the bag well over a foot away from his body.

"Nice." Sam grasped the bag again, stopping its swing back toward his partner.

G stepped over to the wheelchair and grasped the armrest, settling himself down onto the seat. "That wiped me out."

"Good work and it should."

"Two punches on each hand and I'm wiped?"

"You're gaining more strength each time you work out or use the parallel bars."

"Maybe I'll be leaving rehab next year." G sighed.

"What?" Sam asked, eyeing his partner. "You're kidding, right?"

"Nope." A wry smile spread his lips thin.

"You got me going on that one."

"I'm good."

"Yes, you are." Sam pushed him back to the room.

"What, no stretching exercises?"

"That torture comes later."

"I thought maybe you forgot."

"You wish." He pushed the wheelchair into G's room and up to the bedside.

"I'd like to sit up for a while in my chair."

"Good idea, you need it, good for the core muscles."

"You've got a good case of core muscle-itis." G readied his body, hoping this time he could muster more energy to stand on his own. He grasped his partner's arms and attempted to hoist himself off the wheelchair.

Sam allowed his partner to do more of the work this time.

"I can't do this all the way!" He huffed out his disgust, lifting his body partially out of the chair.

Sam grabbed him by the waist and slid him into the chair. "Almost." He took a blanket off the foot of the bed and draped it over G's lap.

"Frustrating."

"While you're sitting there, focus on the core muscles and keeping your body straight."

"Core muscles," G said with disgust. "Takes too much energy to sit up straight."

Sam placed two pillows behind his partner, pushing him forward. "And now?"

"Much better." He breathed out a sigh of relief. "Sorry, it's too much work."

"No problem." Sam took his book and settled down on the window seat next to his partner's chair. "Want to watch TV or read?"

"Neither, sitting is enough exercise." He smirked.

Sam chuckled and opened his book.

G stared at the sliding glass doors, straight ahead of him. He swore someone had moved in the bushes in the courtyard outside his room. A creepy, crawly feeling started in the pit of his stomach. It was the same feeling he had in his gut before the accident on the mountain. "Sam," he whispered, frozen in place, unable to say anything more.

He glanced up from the book and scrutinized his partner's face. Something was off. "You okay?"

"Sam," G whispered again, "he's here… help me."

"What? What are you talking—" The glint of a long-barreled handgun caught his eye. "G!" He threw his book aside and leaped off the window seat, shoving his partner to the carpeted floor and covering him with his body. Sam reached for his SIG-Sauer P229 in his holster, holding it with two hands and aiming it at the shadowy figure in the courtyard.

Glass shattered. A bullet whizzed and whirled past their heads.

Sam rolled his partner toward the bed, shoving him under it. On his belly, he cocked the trigger and aimed his weapon in the direction of the shot fired. He fired off one round.

Another bullet whizzed and whirled past him on his right, low to the ground, hitting one rear wheel of the bed and ricocheting off it.

G yelped and coiled his body in on itself, rocking himself and mumbling incoherent words.

He fired his weapon again, hitting his target, the owner of the gun crying out and leaping out from behind the bushes. Sam climbed to feet and charged forward, firing at the fleeing man.

Two nurses hurried into the room and stared at the destroyed window looking at the courtyard outside their patient's room.

Sam stepped back into G's room. "Leave and call Ms. Lange, ASAP, and tell her what happened." He watched them leave and crouched low next to the bed. His partner had not stopped mumbling the incoherent words and rocking himself. "G?" he asked with a soft, soothing voice, attempting to bring him back to the present. This was the first time he saw any outward, visible signs of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Not good. Sam reached out to touch him.

G jerked his hand away, snapping it back hard enough to hit the metal undercarriage of the hospital bed. He yelped.

"Easy, G, it's Sam."

"Help me…."

"Are you hurt anywhere?"

"Don't know."

"I'm going to touch you and pull you out from under the bed." Sam reached out his hand again, grasping his partner's left arm and pulling him toward him. He backed away at the same time, dragging G out from under the bed. Sam noticed blood dripping from a wound on his partner's forehead. He decided to not tell him for the moment. No use adding more problems to the equation.

Sam straightened, drawing G up with him. He maneuvered the bed into its lowest position, and sat his partner on it. Afterward he examined his partner's body for any more injuries and returned his focus on the initial one. The wound on G's forehead was only a slight graze but enough to make it bleed considering it was a head wound. He wondered where the bullet had landed after it hit him. "You okay?"

"He…." G pointed toward the now open window.

Sam whirled around, aiming his gun in the direction his partner had pointed. Nothing. With his gun poised at the last place he saw the gunmen, Sam grasped his partner and guided him into the wheelchair. He pushed the wheelchair into the most protected area of the room, the bathroom. The only problem was it faced the open window. Sam tucked the wheelchair into the tiled shower, affording his partner the most protection. "Don't move."

"Don't leave me… here… alone…." G stuttered in a staccato-like tone, each word forcing its way out with acute breathlessness. Damn it. _I used to be the pillar of inner and outer strength. Not any more. Ever since the mountain…._

"I won't, I promise." Sam edged toward the open bathroom door, hiding his body behind the door.

Another bullet whizzed and whirled past him, imbedding itself in the wall behind him. He was lucky the guy was a poor shot.

Sam pulled out his cellphone and called Hetty himself. Someone should have been here by now. He stood away from the door, closer to his partner's position, protected in the shower's alcove. "Hetty, I'm under fire again," he whispered into the phone.

A loud ruckus outside the room forced Sam out into the open this time. He crouched low and scanned the room and the courtyard outside. Deeks. Kensi. He breathed out a sigh of relief, his team was here. Sam shut off his cellphone.

"Are you guys okay?" Deeks asked, walking through the broken, sliding glass doors into the room.

"G's shaken up over this."

"And you?" he asked again, scrutinizing his team leader's body from head to toe.

"Fine."

Kensi entered the room in the same manner. "He escaped before we could arrest him." She placed her gun in its holster.

"LAPD's forensic unit just arrived and is now looking for evidence."

"Got any clues as to who they were shooting at?"

Sam lowered his voice and said, "Yes, G."

"What?" Deeks asked, holstering his weapon.

"He knows?" Kensi whispered.

"Yes."

"Hetty wants you both out of here, ASAP."

"Right and where are we supposed to go?"

"Her place," Kensi said, "and she suggested cellphone silence, regarding her address." She handed Sam a piece of paper with the address written on it.

He strode back into the bathroom to get his partner. Sam's jaw dropped.

G had positioned himself on the shower floor in one corner, rocking himself while mumbling the same incoherent words as he had before under the bed. Blood trickled down G's forehead onto his aqua-blue hospital gown and splashed on the dark blue tiled shower floor.

* * *

Thanks for reading.


	5. Safety

**Thanks for the encouraging reviews.**

* * *

**Safety**

**Chapter 5**

Under the heavy security of the LAPD and their team, Sam pushed his partner in a wheelchair out to a black Ford SUV.

Within inches of the door, the strange feeling which G felt in Sam's Challenger rose to the surface. "Can't do this."

"What?" Sam's eyebrows raised high. "Just get into the back seat." He started to help him out of the wheelchair.

"No!" G grabbed onto the armrests, unwilling to leave the safety of his wheelchair.

"Come on." He whirled the wheelchair to face him and crouched before his partner. "Talk to me."

"I'm… don't know…." G stuttered.

"Hey, you're going to be safe."

"Not in a car, no, I won't be safe."

"Your team is here with you," Sam said, straightening and positioning himself to help his partner off the wheelchair. He lowered his voice. "I'll even hold you if you want."

"Damn." G sucked on his lower lip. "Like you did under the trees almost a year ago?"

"If you want me to do that I will."

"If I need it."

"Yes."

G released the armrests. "I'm acquiescing." This doesn't mean I feel one hundred percent great about getting into this vehicle or any vehicle.

"Thank you."

G shot him a look.

Sam lifted him into the SUV's backseat, closed the door, and left the wheelchair at the curb. He climbed in the opposite side of the vehicle and reached over to help his partner fasten his seatbelt.

"Don't want it on."

"Not happening, you know the rules."

G grabbed the door handle and started to lift it.

"Listen to me as you're so fond of saying lately," Sam said, grasping his partner's right hand and lifting it off the door handle. "The seatbelt is a necessary evil."

G cringed upon hearing that word, evil. He scanned the area around the SUV, searching for the man he had gotten a glimpse of earlier. After grabbing the seatbelt from Sam's hand, he fastened his own seatbelt. "Happy?"

"Very." He buckled his own seatbelt. "Okay Deeks, we're ready to go."

G scanned the window and the windshield, looking for the mysterious unsub who was bent on killing him. Any metal which glinted from the mid-afternoon's bright sun startled him.

"Hey," Sam whispered, "remember to use your deep breathing exercises we practiced in the rehab's exercise room."

He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, pushing away the growing creepy, crawling feeling in his gut.

Sam flipped the door and window lock switches in the back, securing all access to them. He eyed his partner, watching the increasing restlessness in him. Sam hoped they made it to Hetty's home before G lost it emotionally and mentally.

"You're watching me," G said, opening his eyes again.

"Yes."

"Think I'm going to lose it."

"Think you're close."

"Okay, yes, too close even for myself."

"Move over to the center seat."

"And you'll?"

"Give you a massage to relax you."

"How sweet." G smirked.

Sam shook his head. "How about your feet?"

"Desperate."

"No," he said, "it relaxes you."

"You should know."

Sam chuckled. "All those body and foot massages," he said lowering his voice.

"Glad you're whispering." G chuckled. "Wouldn't want anyone to discover your new secret fetish."

"Let's just forget it." Sam folded his arms.

"I was razzing you."

He huffed as they turned the corner onto Hetty's street.

"How about in my room before I take a nap?"

"You'll probably need it after I torque your body around."

"Whatever." G folded his arms.

"Got you," Sam said, "now we're even." He chuckled and smiled.

Deeks pulled into the circular driveway and parked. "See you two in the house." He exited the car along with Kensi.

Sam climbed out of the SUV and removed a wheelchair from the rear of it. He pushed it around to his partner's side of the vehicle and opened the door.

"Now that's service," G said, smirking.

"Someone's feeling better." He helped his partner into the wheelchair.

"I missed the banter, and I'm getting out of this damned car."

"I missed the banter too." He pushed the wheelchair toward the house. "We'll work on getting you used to riding in a car again."

"There's only one thing missing."

"And that is?" Sam asked.

"Neither you or the doctors told me what kind of injuries I had."

"You're harping on that again?"

"You promised to tell me."

"Okay, after you're settled into your room, remind me." Sam pushed the wheelchair through the open front door and into the living room.

"Mr. Callen."

G sighed. This was going to be a tense situation.

"How are you feeling?"

"Good." The less said the better.

"You must be tired." She motioned with her hand for Sam to follow her toward a bedroom.

"But Hetty, this is your—"

"I'm in the den for now until we get things sorted out."

Sam pushed his partner into the large bedroom suite.

"I thought you'd appreciate the privacy and the exercise equipment." Hetty stood outside the room. "And Mr. Hanna, a word with you before you go." She left.

Sam closed the double doors to the room and helped his partner onto the bed. Afterward, he turned to leave.

"Wait, you're leaving, how am I supposed to get around, and—"

"Easy, G." He flipped on his heels and held up his hands. "I'll talk to Hetty about arrangements."

* * *

**NCIS:LA NCIS:LA NCIS:LA**

* * *

Sam returned to G's new room and found him sound asleep on the bed. He pulled the covers over his partner's body and sat on the bed next to him.

"I know you're there."

"Faking it."

"Nope, hoping you'd return," he said, sighing. "Can you give me what you promised to do in the car?"

"Which one? The hug or the work out or the massage?"

"Hard choices." Ever since Sam had held him at the accident scene, G felt something new within him. He wondered if his partner felt it too. _Maybe it is just me. I am afraid to ask for more. Afraid of what he will think._

"And?"

"A hug."

Sam slid down onto his side behind his partner on the king-size bed, pulling G backward into his bulkier body. "How's this?"

_Damn. I feel it again. This time it is stronger than on the mountain. _"Perfect." He sighed.

"I sensed you needed this for a while."

"I resisted it and… you."

"And?"

"You say it, just say it already and stop this…" G glanced over his shoulder to see the smirk on his partner's face. "Tell me."

"Tell you what?" Sam chuckled.

"You're messing with me."

"Yes."

G sighed again. "I thought so. I knew it."

"On the mountain…" Sam paused for a moment. "What did you feel between us?"

"You saved my ass."

"Is that all?"

_Damn. Sam is going there. He __**is**__ there. I am there. _G took in a deep breath. "I felt more than a hug from you."

"Same here." He nuzzled his partner's neck, breathing lightly on the skin.

"Thought so." G pressed backward into his partner's embrace, wanting to be closer and wanting something more than a hug.

* * *

Thanks for reading.


	6. Evidence

**Thanks for the encouraging reviews.**

* * *

**Evidence **

**Chapter 6**

Eric, Nell, and Sam arranged the computers in Hetty's dining room.

It was early evening of G's second day at his operations manager's home. He loathed this revealing of information. If in fact the evidence had remained on the recording devices being held at LAPD's vaults, Hetty had every right to become a livid leader.

Sam pushed his partner's wheelchair closer to the dining room table and pulled up a chair next to him. He observed his partner for a full minute before asking him a question. "You okay?"

G squirmed in his seat and sighed. "Peachy."

"Thought so." He wrapped his right arm around his partner's shoulders. "Nothing to worry about."

"Right."

"Gentlemen, what is this about?" Hetty asked, stepping into her dining room and taking in the computer array. With her hands on her hips, she moved closer, leaning over her lead agent's shoulder. "You requested this, Mr. Callen?"

He wanted to shrink into the wainscoting which covered the dining room walls. "I did."

"Maybe you and I need to have a talk. Alone." She eyed Sam, Nell, and Eric.

"I can explain and I will, later."

"Now, Mr. Callen, now."

He swallowed down a huge imaginary lump in his throat. "I didn't go to the mountains to search for answers to the ops."

Hetty slowly sat in a chair next to her lead agent, her jaw slightly agape.

"I… it's a long story and I don't know if I have… proof."

"What kind of proof?" She leaned forward, pressing him for answers.

"The Challenger's onboard cameras type proof."

Hetty eyed Mr. Hanna. "And you knew about this?"

"As of two days ago at the rehab center."

"Carry on." She rose off the chair and exited the dining room.

"What was that about?" Eric asked.

"Don't ask," G said, he eyed Eric and Nell then faced his partner. "Don't tell, Sam." He smirked.

Nell positioned a laptop computer in front of Sam and Callen. "I won't pry any further." She eyed her partner. "Streaming the videos to you now, two windows at once. Let me know which one you want paused."

G's jaw dropped open. "Stop it all!" He pushed himself back from the dark oak table. "I can't."

"Easy, G, what—"

"Don't." G turned his wheelchair and attempted to roll toward his room at the end of the hallway.

Sam stepped in front of him, blocking his exit. "You can't run from this forever."

"And I can't watch this."

"Because?"

"It's all my fault." G lowered his eyes to his lap. "Sorry Sam. I almost got you killed."

"Almost is not dead." He crouched before his partner and lowered his voice. "I told you I hold no grudges for what you did."

"But I'm responsible," he said, his voice barely audible.

"You're not responsible for the accident." Sam grasped his partner's hands in his. "You hear me, G?"

He glanced upward into his partner's eyes. All G saw was respect. And something else. One night with Sam holding him changed everything. "I hear you."

He released his partner's hands, straightened and turned the wheelchair back toward the table. Sam leaned over his partner's shoulder and whispered, "Later I'll prove it."

"Prove what?"

"What we discussed last night." He straightened and pushed the wheelchair into the table.

"Here we go again," Nell said.

"Only the left one for now."

She froze the right video stream.

G squirmed in his seat and grasped the armrests, his knuckles whitening.

"Easy."

"Stop. Now. Stop it. Damn it." He covered his mouth with a hand. "I can't do this."

"It's Post Traumatic Stress—"

"Don't you think I know that?" He clenched his teeth. "Sorry, man, okay."

"I'm okay with this."

"I wish I was." He stared at the image on the computer screen. It was not his imagination. A black SUV had sideswiped Sam's side of the car. "Any way to identify the vehicle and the driver?"

"It'll take some work but it's possible," Eric said.

"Whatever it takes. All resources on this—"

"All resources on what, Mr. Callen?" She stood behind him, studying the video.

"An SUV sideswiped us, Hetty," Sam said.

"I see that."

"I was going to tell you about it."

"About what, Mr. Callen?"

He sighed. "The telephone calls. The threats. The stalking."

"What?" Sam turned G's wheelchair until their eyes met. "And when were you going to tell me?"

"Now you're angry."

"And I don't have a right to be angry that you—"

"I did what I had to do."

"Excuses!" Hetty joined Sam, standing next to him and eyeing her lead agent.

"He threatened to eliminate everyone one by one." Not quite the truth. The mysterious unsub only wanted him out of the picture. G was bent on discovering why and the man's identity.

"And you took it upon yourself to take the brunt of the punishment for—"

"Hetty, please, I can't talk to you… yet… give me a couples of days."

"How about another day?"

"Come on, Hetty, you know what G's been through—"

"I'm half kidding."

"And half serious…" The lines in G's forehead creased deeper than usual. "I can explain everything if you give me some time."

"You've got 48 hours. Period." Hetty turned on her heels and left the dining room.

G stared after her with his mouth hanging open. "I think she's ticked off at me."

"You think so." Sam smirked and rubbed his chin with a finger. He turned his partner's wheelchair back to the table.

"You?"

"Easy to forgive you."

"Right," G said, though not loud enough for his partner hear him. "Can you run the video one more time, Eric?"

He started it again.

"Slow, frame by frame. Stop." G stared at laptop's screen, his mouth slightly agape. It was the same man he saw through the sliding glass doors at the hospital. The one Sam had shot and hopefully injured. He shuddered, a flashback from the accident almost a year ago slid into view in his mind.

A flashback from earlier in the day came into view and then disappeared fast, leaving him with the same dark foreboding feeling he had at the accident. The reason why he loathed being left alone especially on the mountain with the unsub possibly coming back to finish his promise. _'You'll be dead by sundown if I can help it.'_ The ongoing threats by this faceless unsub who haunted him with numerous calls day and night.

After a while he stopped answering his cellphone which of course infuriated his team members and Hetty. Several times he thought about asking for a new cellphone. Yet that would draw suspicion from Hetty. He needed to keep his team safe and at a distance from this ruthless unsub. Instead, he had done the opposite. He had drawn the man to his partner and himself. He shuddered again.

"G?"

He glanced up into his partner's face.

"You okay?"

"Need to lie down." _More like I need to crawl into a hole some place and hide._

Sam pushed his partner's wheelchair toward the bedroom. "You want to tell me what that was all about?"

"Not especially." G repeated in his mind what his partner had taught him about his core muscles. He focused on them and lifted himself off the wheelchair, pivoted on his feet, inched back and sat on the bed.

"You did it!"

"Glad that excites you." The lines in G's forehead creased deep. He laid back on the bed and pulled a coverlet over his body.

Sam sat on the bed, facing his partner. "You need to talk."

"I need to sleep."

"Either talk to me or Hetty, your choice."

"Persuasive." G positioned himself on his side and propped his head up with an arm. "This guy wants me dead. I don't know why."

"How long have you lived with this death threat?"

"Months."

"We talking three before the accident?"

"More."

"Come on, man, talk to me."

"Six, give or take." He sighed. "Threats on my cellphone on a daily basis."

"You stopped taking calls."

"For a while until Hetty blew her lid over it."

"I remember the day."

Two days before G decided to investigate a lead on the unsub. Two days before the fateful hit and run which almost killed his partner and him. Two days… a series of bad choices which haunted him.

"G?"

"That prompted me to follow a lead."

"And took us to the Angeles National Forest?"

"Yes, sorry, it was a stupid idea."

"Not if it lead to the identity of the unsub."

"Right, instead it almost got us both killed," G said, "and the guy still wants to see me dead."

"Our team could've helped you find this… jerk."

"You were right to call him a bastard."

"Okay, this bastard," Sam said, "and in the end that is just what they are doing."

"Okay, rub it in."

"Well, you know better than to lone wolf it."

"Yes."

"I thought you learned your lesson."

"Apparently not." G smirked.

"After this?"

He rolled onto his back. "After I almost killed us both because of my stupidity?" G folded his arms, tightening them against his chest and pushing out a long sigh. "Yes."

"I'm going to talk to Hetty."

"And get me off the hook."

"Yes, you don't need the extra stress."

"I caused this," he said, "it's my responsibility. Bring her in here."

Sam climbed off the bed and opened the bedroom door. Nell stood outside it with her hand in the air ready to knock on the door.

"You guys need to see this." She turned and hurried back down the hallway to the dining room.

G sat up in bed and slid into the wheelchair. "Just one more day and maybe I can walk out there."

"I'm not pressuring you—"

"Just push."

Sam pushed G out to the dining room.

"We enhanced the man's features," Eric said.

"And I came up with a name through a background search," Nell said. "Only the guy doesn't have just one name."

G's jaw slacked open. "You mean he's got many aliases."

"Many is not the word I'd use," Nell said, turning her laptop around for her team leader to view.

The screen was filled with name after name complete with addresses and phone numbers going back at least ten years, possibly more. G perused the names, trying to find any of them which sounded familiar. A complete dead end.

"Recognize any of them," Sam asked.

"Not one."

"Any idea what this unsub's real name is?" G asked, glancing across the table at Nell.

"Not a clue, yet."

G passed the laptop back over to her. "I want a name, his real name."

"I can give you a face," Eric said, "a clear, concise face." He turned his laptop around and pushed it to the center of the table.

G's jaw dropped.

Sam stared at his partner. "You know him."

"I do but this is impossible."

"What's impossible?"

"The guy is dead or _was_ dead."

"And you know him from where?"

"The CIA, he was a spy, a double spy," he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"What was your relationship to him?"

"We were partners, well, at least for a while."

"And then?"

"He died during the line of duty," G said, "I saw it with my own eyes. I was there. This is impossible." He drew the laptop closer to him and studied the man's facial features. "This doesn't make sense. Plastic surgery?"

"That happened on one ops."

"Two?"

"Come on, G, get real."

"Get real?" He pointed to the man in the picture. "Unless I see him up close and personal I can't and won't give you a positive ID."

"You're saying you won't tell us his name," Sam said.

"You got that right."

"Got a better one," Nell said with an excited voice. "He just checked into a hospital emergency department for treatment of his gun shot wound."

"Send Deeks and Kensi," Sam said.

"Done," she said.

"If they—"

"I'll take you to the boat house," Sam said.

"Not until after you tell me what in the blazes is going on," Hetty said, entering the room and standing behind her lead agent.

G turned his wheelchair to face her. "This is what I know so far," he said. "This guy used to be my partner at the CIA. The last time I saw him he was dead. I checked his pulse. I know he died."

"And?" she asked, folding her arms.

He glanced at his partner for a moment and then back to her. "I had to leave him."

"Where?"

"In the mountains… near the high desert outside of Los Angeles." He swallowed down the huge lump in his throat. "When we got pushed off the road almost a year ago, I wasn't investigating our ops. I was following a lead on the place where I had left my partner."

Sam's jaw slacked open. "You suspected this all along and told no one?"

"Who was I going to tell? The CIA? They've been out of the picture for years."

"What would the CIA be investigating in the mountains outside of Los Angeles?" Hetty asked.

"It's classified."

"I'll bet it is and it is about to get unclassified." She pulled a cellphone out of her pocket and called a friend from the CIA.

"Hetty, please, don't do this." G stood and grabbed the cellphone from his operations manager. "I need you to trust me on this one." He switched off the phone, ending the call.

"You withheld vital information from me and your team."

"I had to because I wasn't certain it was him," he said, sitting back in the wheelchair. "I'm still not certain it is him."

"When will you be certain?"

"I have to see him face to face," G said, "and I need to hear his voice."

"This is similar to Marcel Janvier."

G made a face at her. "Nothing like that situation."

"Why does he want you dead?"

"If it is him, I have no idea why he would."

"Unless he believes you deserted him in the mountains," Sam said.

"He was dead and I was told to leave him behind."

"By whom?" Hetty asked.

"My supervisor at the time."

"You never thought to question him."

"Her, and no."

"Odd."

"Odd I didn't question her actions."

"Yes, odd for you," Hetty said, "you always question me when something seems to be an unusual request. And that didn't strike you as an unusual request?"

"Under the circumstances, everything about the mission was unusual." He thought back to that day when his partner and he got assigned to an unusual mission inside the United States. They never got assigned to a mission such as this one. Yet he followed orders, never questioning his supervisor. Now looking back, the circumstances had been much stranger than he had first realized. "I need access to computer."

"You use the one behind you," Nell said.

G turned to face the dining room table and started typing a password into a CIA website. It had been a long time since he had typed anything into this site. He would be surprised if the site allowed him access. Something was definitely off. He gained access to the site and logged into it as he did the last time he entered the site over twenty years ago. This should not be possible. G accessed the particular data for the mission his partner and he had engaged in years ago.

His jaw dropped open. All the data had been altered and his former partner's deceased information listed him as an active CIA agent. He stared at the screen unable to speak about the shocking intel before him.

"G?" Sam inched closer to his partner's side and settled down in a chair. "Tell me what you're seeing."

"I can't talk about this…." He shut down the website and pushed himself away from the table.

Hetty stepped in front of her agent's path. "You need to tell us what you found."

"It's classified." He lowered his chin to his chest and focused anything but the people around him, fighting back the flashbacks from twenty years ago.

"Come on, G, talk to us."

"I'll call my sources if you refuse to talk."

"Call them, go ahead and call them." He tossed her phone back to her. "I don't care what you do. Now get the hell out of my way." He wheeled his chair forward ready to plow her down.

Sam grabbed the back of his partner's wheelchair, holding him in place. "Stop this."

"Stop what? Stop the setup I never saw coming? Stop the madman who used to be my trusted partner from killing me?" He pounded his fists on the wheelchair's armrests. He raised his voice one decibel louder. "What the hell am I supposed to do now? They planned this, my supervisor and my partner. And I was stupid and young and gullible and believed whatever she told me to do, without question. A perfect little soldier to be manipulated and used anyway they saw fit. Damn this!" He pounded his fists again. "Let me go, Sam, I'm finished talking."

He released his partner's wheelchair and watched G wheel it six inches or less at time before needing to rest and start again.

* * *

Thank you for reading.


	7. Interrogation

**Thanks for the encouraging reviews.**

* * *

**Interrogation**

**Chapter 7**

If he could have paced the hallway outside of the boat house's largest interrogation room, G would have. Instead, he rolled his wheelchair back and forth in a space of about five square feet, working the wheels with his partially gloved hands and his eyes closed. With the door opening and closing to the interrogation room, he opened his eyes and watched his partner come toward him. G eyed him. "So?"

"He refuses to speak with me," Sam said, "he'll only speak with you."

"Why do I feel as if this is a continuation of the same crap from years ago," G said. "Another way for this bastard to manipulate me and get into my mind."

"Do you want me in there with you?"

"No, he probably won't talk with you there."

"Even though he knows he's being recorded?"

"If I know him like I do, I suspect he ask me to stop recording everything."

"And?"

"I won't do it," G said, rolling himself toward the door. "I'll need help with the door."

Sam understood what his partner was asking him to do. Allow him to act as the chief interrogator of a man who attempted to murder him. G was walking a thin line with this request. He closed and locked the door behind his partner.

G settled his wheelchair behind the steel table opposite his former partner. Now up close and personal he knew it was his former partner. The man had aged faster than G had. Deep lines creased the man's face, giving him a weathered look, as if the man had spent the last twenty years in the driest regions of the world. After perusing near endless list of aliases, G knew different. This man had spent the last twenty years chasing him, waiting for the opportune moment to strike and remove G from this world. He shuddered thinking about how close his former partner had come to completing his mission.

He picked up the dossier on his former partner and flipped through the pages until he came upon the accident nearly a year ago. "So, you didn't complete your mission."

"At last we meet."

"Is that how this is going to be?"

"I hadn't planned on meeting with you ever again."

"Obviously you planned to take me out for good."

"Yes."

"And?"

"Not much to say about it, I failed, twice, and I ought to be ashamed of myself," his former partner said. "Rest assured though it won't happen again. I'll succeed."

"Who sent you on this mission?"

"That's classified."

"Right." G smiled wide, his lips thinning. It was far from a true smile. More like he wanted to strangle the man seated across from him. He attempted to keep his emotions in check and found it was more difficult than with other interrogations. "I'm officially taking the chains off the classification."

"Well, I'm not."

G picked up a sheet of paper on the table. "It says here you searched for me throughout the United States." He laid the paper on the table and turned it to face the man, shoving it across the table before his former partner.

"Where did you get this?" His eyes became steely gray. "This is classified inform—"

"I've got connections which you undoubtably know about considering you've hunted me for years."

"Bastard." The man swore under his breath. "You don't have permission—"

"But I do, Jarvis, I do, that's what I do for a living, squash bugs like you." G watched his former partner squirm in his seat hearing those words.

"What do you want?"

"Cease and desist or I'll keep you under _my_ scrutiny for the rest of your life."

"I'm on an assigned mission, and I intend to follow through with my orders."

"By who's authority?"

"Hers."

"She's alive?"

"What do you think?"

G sighed. He had not discovered any indication that his former supervisor was alive and an operating CIA agent. "No proof."

"Believe me, I've got proof."

"I'm assuming she's dead and you're about to join her."

"You first."

G couldn't believe this guy sitting before him, shackled to the table and still acting as if he was going to kill him. "That's all we have to say to each other." It was his signal to his partner that he was finished with the interrogation, at least for now. He hoped for another session but he might not gain any more insight into this man's bent-on-killing-him attitude.

"I'm not through with you."

"Well, I am." G grabbed the paper from the opposite side of the table and compiled all the papers into the file folder. "You're not talking and I'm not getting anywhere." He started to back away from the table and roll his wheelchair toward the door.

Jarvis stuck out his leg, his foot catching the spokes of the wheelchair and holding G in place. "I said, I'm not finished with you." In one swift move of his other leg, he had shoved the table aside, unlocked his shackles and tackled G off the wheelchair onto the floor.

G struggled to remain upright, knowing that falling to his side he would have less leverage with his core muscles. The man was as strong and agile as he had been years ago in the field. It surprised G. He expected the man's physique to match his aged facial features.

Jarvis wrapped his right arm around G's neck, holding his former partner in a headlock. The CIA agent started choking him.

G grabbed his former partner's forearm and shoved it toward his mouth ready to take a chunk out of the man's bare arm. He figured it was his only recourse considering he now lacked the strength to fight back.

Sam opened the door with such force that it slammed against the inner wall twice. With his weapon drawn and aimed at the unsub's head he said, "Let him go or I'll blow your damned head off." He stepped aside and allowed Deeks and Kensi into room. They extricated Jarvis from their team leader's body, frisking him from head to toe and this time handcuffing his arms behind his back.

Sam helped G back into the wheelchair. He lowered his voice and said, "I'm staying with you if you continue this interrogation."

G rubbed his neck where his former partner had had a death hold on him. "I'm finished with the bastard." He rolled himself out of the room.

"You're the bastard!" Jarvis screamed at him, struggling to free himself from Deeks and Kensi's hold.

G stopped in the hallway and turned to face him. "You mean because I left your dead ass out in the Angeles National Forest?"

"Yes."

"She told me to do it."

"That's a lie."

"No lie."

"Prove it, bet you can't, you damned liar."

G rolled his wheelchair back into the room and grasped the folder from Sam's hand.

Sam set the table back up and G placed the folder on it.

"Here's my orders."

Deeks and Kensi pressed the man back into the chair, securing his handcuffed hands to a bolt in the floor.

"Get these off of me!" Jarvis's face twisted into an evil and menacing mien.

"Not now. Not ever," Sam said.

G shoved the paper across the table. "Proof."

Jarvis stared at the paper before him. "She… this is impossible."

"Exactly what I said when I found you alive."

"She said you double crossed us both."

"A complete fabricated lie."

"I need a lawyer."

"Good luck with that after trying to choke me on federal property with witnesses and it being filmed and recorded."

"You're a federal agent?"

"I thought you knew that."

"Crap, no, she told me…."

"She lied to you too," G said, "makes me wonder about her true motives behind getting you to murder me."

"You're all federal agents?" Jarvis glanced around the room in shock.

"Yes."

"She set me up," he said, "she had to know this."

"And you want me to believe you're the victim now?"

"You need to listen to me," Jarvis said, "I had no idea this was going on… no idea."

Without another word to his former partner, G left the interrogation room.

* * *

Thanks for reading.


	8. Discovery

**Thanks for the encouraging reviews. **

**It's here...**

* * *

**Discovery**

**Chapter 8**

G settled down on one of the chairs in the bedroom. Sam checked out his partner from head to toe for a second time—once in the boat house was not enough for him—making sure there were no injuries from the scuffle in the interrogation room.

"You okay," Sam asked, crouching low while finishing his thorough exam of his partner's body. He gazed upward into his partner intense blue eyes. "Flashbacks?"

"No." He started to stand and slumped into the chair. "Crap," he said under his breath.

"You don't need to—"

"Stop… I can't remember… there's nothing."

"Remember what?"

"What happened to him, how he died." He was not even sure he could remember where their mission had been located. Something was off. It was obvious that Jarvis used the old bobby-pin-in-the-watch trick G had taught him years ago. He should have never trusted the bastard in the first place. Maybe he was trustworthy years ago in the field. Maybe not. He was not sure of much now. His usually flawless memory had been shaken to the core.

"G?"

"Damn."

"Talk to me."

"….could you hold me again like you did earlier today?"

Sam straightened and offered his hand to his partner and drew him into his body, holding him close.

"I…."

"I know, not like this."

"This is good, too." G buried his face in Sam's shoulder, unwilling to glance in his eyes and hoping his partner was feeling the same way as he was.

Sam lifted his partner's chin with a finger and planted a tender kiss on his open lips. "I hope that was okay."

G was unable to articulate the words he wanted to say.

Sam led him over to the bed and helped him onto it, positioning himself behind his partner and drawing the man back against him. "And this?"

"Yes." A single word would have to do for now. "I think my memory is broken."

"Broken?"

"I used to know, at least I believe I did, what happened on that day in the Angeles National Forest."

"Is that the reason you sought out the evidence on that fateful day almost a year ago?"

"Yes, I had to prove something to myself."

"And you never got the chance."

"I want you to take me there," G said, thinking back to the last time he was near his destination and what it almost cost them. "I need to be sure what happened on that day."

"We'll see what Hetty thinks about—"

"No!" G jerked himself free from his partner's warm body and faced him. "I'm not running this past her. He's out of the picture. Jarvis can't hurt me."

"You forgot, she can and I believe she will," Sam said. "I suppose we'll have to see her face to face before you give me her name."

"Well, I can't be certain," he said, sighing. "I need to know what happened twenty years ago."

"Are you telling me you'll go without me?"

"I'll find a way." He turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

"One condition."

"Here it comes." G smirked.

"I drive and you ride shotgun."

G turned his head and eyed his partner. "What?"

"We both need protection at all times."

"Seriously?"

Sam drew G into his side and surrounded him with both arms. "And one more condition."

"You said one—"

He enveloped G's mouth, forcing his tongue inside. G wrapped his arms around Sam's neck, pulling him closer. Sam finished the kiss breathless. "We do this more often."

"That's a condition?"

"Yes."

G pulled Sam down into a kiss, plundering his mouth with his tongue again and again eager to have more of him. "I want more of this too."

Sam rolled onto his back and pulled G with him. "When you're ready I want to take this to the next step."

"That's a little further than I had planned to go."

A moment of silence passed between them.

"Sex," G said, "is not where I planned to go."

"Reservations?"

"Too many to count."

"I see."

"You think I'm scared to do it?"

"Yes," Sam said, "scared to take it to the next step."

"It changes everything."

"Does it?"

G rolled off of Sam's body and curled onto his side.

"Easy, sorry, man, I didn't mean to—"

"Stop, it's not you, okay, it's me."

Sam surrounded G with both arms, pulling him back hard against his body. He gently nuzzled and kissed the back of his neck.

"Something's familiar about this and in a creepy way."

"Got you," he said, "we'll move a little slower."

"That should work for me." G sighed. "Hold me tighter."

* * *

**NCIS: LA NCIS:LA NCIS:LA**

* * *

G held Sam's hand with his left hand and with his right hand held his loaded SIG-Sauer P229 on his lap ready to defend himself and his partner at any cost.

Sam drove toward their destination, a remote part of the Angeles National Forest and a forest ranger's lookout tower. With his partner's detailed instructions to the tower, he hoped they would both find answers to the mysteries from G's past.

The closer they came to the exact spot in the road where the accident had occurred almost a year ago, the more G's hands sweated. He dropped his partner's hand and wiped the sweat off his hand on his jeans.

Sam wrapped his arm around G's shoulders and drew him into his side. "Easy, man, nothing—" He swerved hard to the right, edging too close to the road's shoulder while avoiding a head-on collision with an oncoming car. "That was… too close." Sam brought his car under control and continued toward their destination.

"That was her!"

"What?"

"Sam, I'd know that face anywhere, I swear it, turn around, fast, we need to—"

"Crap!" Sam floored the gas pedal, creating more distance between him and the car following them. "She's behind us."

G unbuckled his seatbelt and slid to the floorboard, his weapon readied and aimed out the back window. "Okay if I fire through the window."

"Whatever you have to do to stop her."

Whatever. The word sunk into his mind along with several flashbacks to a time on the mountain with his former supervisor. He shook his head as if the action would clear those images from his mind. Nothing happened. G fought to keep his focus on the task at hand.

Sam created more distance between him and the car behind them. "Tell me more about this woman."

"Sharpshooter. Top in her class twenty-five years ago."

"I guess this is information I should've known before we started this adventure."

"I never thought she'd pursue me."

Sam sighed. "She have a name?" He had a good three car length and was gaining more room on the car following them.

"Anna Chapman."

"Oh come on, G, this is some kind of joke," he said. "I hope you don't mean she's a double agent and a Russian spy."

"Nope," he said. "It was her alias. She loved Anna Chapman's style. It was the only name I ever heard her called."

"Well, I guess she's behind this as you first surmised."

"And I don't remember what happened or why she's bent on taking me out." G rested his arm which had started to cramp. He was out of practice, too far out of practice. Absolutely no muscle strength in his shooting arm. "I think this is a bad idea."

"You think?" Sam chuckled.

"I'm glad you think this is funny," G said, settling back onto his seat.

"Giving up so soon?"

"My shooting arm is on fire, and I don't mean in a good way."

Sam reached out and felt his partner's arm. "Feels like a cramp." He felt a hard knot in G's forearm.

"It is."

"Not good." He massaged the forearm muscle down to the hand. "See what happens when you miss your stretching and massaging sessions?"

"Are we getting into that again?"

"We are." Sam smirked.

"I missed one day's worth of workouts and one stretching and massaging session and you're bent out of shape over it."

"It obviously makes a difference in how your muscles feel." Sam continued to massage G's hand. "I wonder how the left one feels."

"Which left one?" He smirked and winked at his partner.

"Here we are in the middle of nowhere with a madwoman chasing us, and you're coming onto me."

"I'm innocent." He eyed the side mirror and rearview mirror. "Looks as if you lost her for now."

"Let's shack up for the night."

"What?"

"You heard me the first time."

"I suppose you've come prepared."

"Not yet."

"Funny guy."

"Get your gun ready again."

"Why?" When he saw the maneuver his partner was about to make, G grabbed the sissy bar. Sam took a sharp turn off the highway and turned back toward the way they had come. "Dueling cars?"

"Not exactly what I had in mind," Sam said. "I think she'll back down when I come at her from an aggressive stance." He pressed the gas pedal to floor and aimed the Challenger as if it were a weapon straight down the middle of the two lane highway at the oncoming car.

His former supervisor's vehicle loomed closer.

"She not going to flinch."

"Yes, she is," he said, "fire at her front left tire."

"Seriously, we don't know what—"

"Just do it!"

G hunkered down and aimed his weapon at the car's front left tire. He used both hands to steady his weapon and still his hands shook from the stress of holding it. G squeezed the trigger and fired off one round.

The first round took out the back window of the Challenger.

G fired off a second round and missed the left front tire. The shot ricocheted off the car's side fender and hit the windshield at an odd angle, shattering the glass into a thousand or so pieces.

At the same moment, Sam took a sharp turn in the opposite direction, missing the car.

The driver swerved out of control, her car flipping over several times before it came to rest on its roof.

Sam sped past the disabled car and looked for a wider spot in the road to complete a U-turn. After turning the Challenger around he sped back to the scene of the wreck, slowing down to afford his partner a shot.

G aimed his weapon at the overturned driver's side. He sighed. "Damn, she's gone."

"At least we've taken her out of the picture for now and that's what counts."

"I hope so for both our sakes."

Sam sped up to the normal speed limit for the road and continued toward their destination. "Now where were we in our conversation?"

"If I remember correctly you declared you had not _come_ prepared."

"Ah yes, I did," Sam chuckled. "I take that back. I brought a small overnight bag just for the occasion."

"And the occasion would be?"

"Having you for dessert tonight." He smacked his lips.

"Sounds lewd yet interesting," G said. "I do have to ask you one question."

"Something pressing?"

"You wanted me to fire at her tire because you knew I would miss the target?"

"Yes."

"Damn you're good." G chuckled.

"Normally, I wouldn't make that request of you."

"Yes, under normal circumstances, my shot, had it been accurate, would've caused her car to careen out of control with an unknown result."

"Still an unknown with your inaccurate shot," he said, "but at least I had time to get out of her way. I knew the shot would ricochet off the car. I just didn't exactly know where and how."

"You're better than I thought." G chuckled again.

"And I'll prove it to you tonight." Sam slowed down and drew G into him, kissing his neck. "I want you."

"Damn."

"Is that all?"

G leaned into Sam, snuggling against him. "I'm scared what this will do to our relationship."

"And?"

"I want you."

Sam pulled over to the road's shoulder, placed his vehicle in park and took G into his arms. He kissed him passionately until they were both breathless. Sam forced a hand down the back of G's tight jeans, squeezing each butt cheek.

* * *

**NCIS:LA NCIS:LA NCIS:LA**

* * *

G stared at the forest service road before them. It was familiar. Too familiar. Flashes from the past filtered into his mind and mixed with the images from a year ago.

Sam grasped his partner's hand. "You okay?"

"Yes."

"Here we go." Sam drove the Challenger down the well-rutted forest service road. The road began with steep mountainsides on both sides. Soon it winded downward in elevation with a deep ravine to the driver's side and a Douglas-fir forest to the right. Ahead of them in the near distance, the road ended in a clearing with a cul-de-sac and a meadow of wild flowers encompassing it. An early Spring rain had completed its promise with an abundance of wild flowers.

Sam pulled into the cul-de-sac and parked. "The park ranger said we needed to hike about a mile up this trail."

"I don't know if I'll need to go to the lookout tower."

"We'll go as far as you need to." He climbed out of the car and helped G out of his side. Sam opened the trunk and pulled out the all-terrain wheelchair they had rented in Los Angeles.

G settled down in the wheelchair and donned the pair of gloves Sam handed him.

Sam hoisted a small backpack onto his shoulders and shut the trunk. "Promise me you'll tell me when you get triggered."

"I promise."

"I'm going to hold you to that promise." He leaned over and kissed G on the neck, nuzzling his face into it. "I'm looking forward to dessert tonight."

G pushed the wheelchair toward the trailhead. "You brought my collapsible cane?"

"Yes, in my backpack."

He only used it once so far and had congratulated himself for a job well done. His transition from the wheelchair to the cane was going slower than he thought it would. Frustrating. That damned physical therapist kept harping about a transition to a walker instead. G shuddered hard thinking about that suggestion. Never. Not ever. Was not happening. _I can just imagine trying to escape from a suspect like Anna Chapman using a walker. _He came the closest ever to punching the man in the face, square on his lips.

Sam kept up the steady pace with G's wheelchair, walking along side him. "I bought an extra pair of those padded gloves if you need them."

"These are working out fine," G said, "just hard to get used doing this on an uneven surface."

"I can push."

"When I get tired." He sighed. "Unfortunately, my arms and chest need this exercise more than yours."

"True."

G reached the trail's summit and scanned the valley below. _This is too familiar… and creepy… maybe that is not the word for it. _His stomach tightened. He started down the other side, braking the wheelchair when it began to gain too much speed down the slope. G hoped he did not need this all-terrain wheelchair for long and yet it was handy with all of its bells and whistles. The hand brake was a necessity on this trail.

The trail leveled off into the valley and a meadow filled with more wild flowers. Orange flowers trumped the other flowers with well over five times the amount. He stared at the overabundance and wondered if they were purposely planted there. "Sam?"

"Yes." He stood along side his partner, staring at the odd configuration of wild flowers, noting the same excessive amount of California Poppies. "I see it."

G studied the mass of California Poppies and noticed an unmistakable conglomeration of flowers in a round pattern. He rolled the wheelchair toward it.

Sam drew his weapon, this was too creepy even for him: A purposeful pattern in the middle of nowhere. He followed his partner into the clearing and panned the surrounding area with his gun, reading himself for anyone who might approach.

"It's a definite marking with the flowers," G said. "This was not some accident of nature." The flowers created a bulls-eye pattern with a profusion of the California Poppies without concentric circles of flowers surrounding it. "Cane."

"No, get out your gun, we have company."

G removed his gun from a leather pouch slung over one shoulder. He pointed his SIG-Sauer P229 in the same direction as Sam.

A rugged, tall and hunky man approached them from the mountains toward their right. "This is government property," the man yelled from a distance, seeing their weapons drawn.

"Federal agents," Sam said, flashing a badge in the man's direction. The bright noon sun caught the badge's shiny laminated surface and glinted.

The man stopped and allowed a backpack on his back to fall to the ground. "I'll need to see your permit." He walked toward Sam with his hands raised in the air.

Slightly more than six feet from him and Sam had enough closeness. "Stop," he said, presenting the permit and holding it up for the man to see. "I want to see your identification too."

The man opened his light jacket and showed off the insignias above the shirt pocket. He took a badge from his jacket pocket and tossed it over to Sam.

While Sam picked it up, G trained his gun on the man's head. "Toss him your ID."

G opened his pouch again and tossed the stranger his federal ID.

Sam lowered his weapon and threw back the man's ID. The man returned G's ID.

G did not follow suit.

His partner eyed him oddly.

He refused to follow through.

"G?"

"No."

"Whatever."

"I'll leave you two to your investigative work," the man said, backing away from them and turning back the way he had come.

Sam sidled up to his partner's side. "What was that all about?"

"I still didn't trust him."

They sighed, one after the other.

"The only person I fully trust is you," G said. "Everything changed after that accident."

"While we are on the subject," Sam said, holstering his weapon. "I promised to inform you about your injuries."

"I forgot about that."

"That's a first for you."

"It doesn't matter, I guess, the proof in my injuries and their extent is in this wheelchair and my slow progress toward using a cane full time."

"Sounds like resolution."

"No, giving up."

Sam crouched before his partner's wheelchair. "It will happen."

His eyes moistened with tears.

"I'll make sure it does," he said. "All the bones in your legs were broken."

"You mean femur, tibia, and fibula in both legs."

"Yes."

"And all the bones in your arms."

"What the hell?"

"Some breaks were compound fractures and required surgery."

"Where's the proof?"

Sam took out his cellphone and skimmed the pictures on it until he came to the ones pertaining to G's accident. He flipped through the photos one at a time, showing his partner the full extent of his injuries. "And your hip was busted in two places."

"Skull fracture?"

"Nope."

"Ribs?"

"Three cracked ribs and a punctured lung." He flipped to those pictured and showed them to his partner.

"Who… took care of me?"

"I did," Sam said. "I refused everyone's help. I asked for six months off and stayed with you twelve hours a day, allowing the staff to care for you during the daytime. Hetty gave me more than six months off."

G attempted to hold back the torrent of emotions within him. Tears cascaded down his face. "I could never thank you enough."

"You don't have to," he said, wiping the tears from his partner's face. "It was my pleasure to serve and take care of you."

"Thank you," he said, his voice cracking from the tears running down the back of his throat. "What about you?"

"I busted my right upper arm and sustained a slight concussion."

"We were hit from your side," G said, "you should've sustained more injuries."

"You weren't wearing your seatbelt."

"I was… crap… not," G said, remembering he had just removed it to get something out of the backseat.

"From what I saw with the onboard camera, he hit us at that exact moment when you were halfway between the seats."

G flashed back to the moment of impact and saw in his mind's eye a car hitting his partner's side of the car. He attempted to protect his face and head from the flying glass and metal shrapnel. It was as if a bomb had exploded. He flinched.

"Easy, G." He reached out and touched his partner's arm.

He stared down at Sam, eyes wet with tears. "I should've died. It should've killed me. It was meant to kill me."

"Yes, it was." Sam straightened and stood behind his partner. "Need help getting out of the wheelchair?" He handed him the folding cane.

G pushed himself upward and off the seat, grasping the cane from his partner. "Thanks again." He walked toward the bulls-eye's center and tamped the ground with the cane. "I thought so."

Sam came along side him, stomping the ground. He settled his backpack on the wild flowers, sans California Poppies, outside the bulls-eye and removed a folding shovel.

G shook his head. "I should've known you'd come prepared."

"Once a Navy SEAL…." He started to dig around the bulls-eye. Three feet down he shoveled into the distinct sound of metal. As far as he could tell it was a round metal box just within the edges of the bulls-eye, about eight feet in diameter. "Do me a favor and keep your gun trained on the area around us." Sam unearthed the entire top of the round metal box. It was then he realized it was not a box. "What the hell is this?" The sides of the container entered the earth. He started to dig down deeper and realized after a foot he was not making any more headway. "This goes underground for some distance."

G glanced at his partner's effort and flashed back to twenty years ago. _Big enough for several people to stand within its perimeter. _He clutched his chest and doubled over.

"G?" He dropped the shovel and rushed over to his partner's side.

"I need to… go… now," he said, breathless and grabbing his chest. His gut tightened further and his chest felt as if someone were stabbing it with a dull blade.

"Memory about this place?"

"Yes." He panted and collapsed further, kneeling on the ground.

Sam helped G to his feet and guided him back to the wheelchair, settling him on it. He took out his cellphone to checked for reception. Two bars would have to do. Sam autodialed Hetty. He straightened, grabbed G's gun, and panned the area around them. After a short dialogue about his whereabouts and their findings with his operations manager, he gathered his backpack and shovel and the cane and pushed G back up the trail.

* * *

**NCIS:LA NCIS:LA NCIS:LA**

* * *

Sam handed G his cane as he exited the Challenger at a private log cabin home on Big Bear Lake. He brought two backpacks into the home with him and laid them down on the sofa next to his partner.

"Who's place is this?"

"Someone Deeks knows."

"Whoa, this isn't a good idea," G said. "I don't need Deeks snooping around in my private life."

"Take it easy," Sam said, "I know the guy personally too."

"How?"

"I needed a lawyer and Deeks introduced me to a discreet and trusted friend of his."

"Hetty could have—"

Sam waved him off. "No, a very personal matter I didn't want it on my record at NCIS."

"Okay, what could be so personal you haven't even told me about it?"

"I've told you about it."

"Oh, that?" G smirked. Sam hated any kind of scuffle outside his career with NCIS. Some deal had gone awry with the purchase of a favorite car two years ago. "The lawyer owns this place?"

"Yes, and several more doted across Southern California."

"More like you paid for this place." G chuckled.

"At least," Sam said, locking the door and checking out the wood stove. "How about a fire?"

"Sounds romantic and cozy."

"Coming onto me again." Sam chuckled.

"Love to." G shoved the two backpacks onto the floor and stretched out on the dark brown microfiber sofa. "If I can stay awake that long." He yawned wide, crunched a small pillow up and laid his head down.

Sam turned around and pulled a blanket off the back of the sofa and covered his partner with it, tucking the powder blue fleece blanket around his body.

"Now all I need is some hot cocoa and a big teddy bear."

"Don't be too sure I won't find both in this cabin."

"Cabin? This is more like a mansion compared to my home."

Sam turned back to the wood stove, coaxing the fire he had started. Once it was well established, he entered the kitchen and looked for something hot to drink. Sam grabbed one of the backpacks and removed a small well-sealed package. He opened it and placed four cookies on a plate. Next he found the perfect stuffed animal for his partner. He came back downstairs with a huge black teddy bear half the size of G. After settling the bear on the rustic oak hardwood floor next to his snoozing partner, Sam hurried back to the kitchen just in time to remove the whistling tea kettle off the propane fired stove before it began to sing.

In a few minutes, he had found all the necessary items to serve his hot cocoa and homemade chocolate chip cookies. He took the filled tray to the living room and laid it on the coffee table. Sam settled next to G on the sofa, lifting his legs onto his lap. One by one he removed his partner's boots and socks to G's moans of pleasure. "Got some hot cocoa and homemade chocolate chip cookies."

G lifted his head. "Seriously, your homemade chocolate chip cookies?"

"Yes, I made a double batch last time and froze half of the batter."

"A man after my own stomach." G switched positions on the sofa and laid his head on Sam's lap. "This is romantic."

"Grab your teddy bear."

He glanced at the huge black bear on the floor beside him. "I was joking." G smirked.

"I wasn't." Sam chuckled.

G lifted the huge overstuffed bear into his arms and cuddled it. Sam pulled the fleece blanket around his partner again.

"You want to tell me about what happened in the clearing earlier."

"Won't let this pass."

"Thought I would let it go."

"Not you." G took a bite of a cookie and savored his favorite treat. Well, at least it was his favorite treat that his favorite partner made. "Which first, the gun thing?"

"A good place to start."

"I don't trust anybody or any situation since the accident."

"You said that."

"I guess I got a little trigger happy."

"Not quite, you didn't fire your weapon."

"True." But the hair on the back of his neck stood up, and the strange feeling in his gut had made itself known again.

"You sensed something ominous about that place," Sam said.

G sighed. "Yes, something happened in that very spot."

"And when I described what I discovered?"

Crap. He set his mug and his half-eaten chocolate chip cookie on the coffee table and sat up. G pulled the fleece blanket around him and clutched the teddy bear tighter into his painful gut.

"We won't go there right now." Sam wrapped an arm around his partner's shoulders and brought him closer into his side.

**NCIS:LA NCIS:LA NCIS:LA**

G stretched and yawned and glanced around the living area of the log cabin, wondering where his partner had gone. Next to the sofa sat his wheelchair and the cane. He moved to the far end of the sofa and grabbed the cane, pushing himself off the sofa. G wavered for few minutes before gaining his balance and starting for the front door. It was wide open. He frantically looked for his pouch and his weapon. No where to be found. G inched forward and peeked around the open door. Sam stood on the front porch with bare feet, watching the sun setting over the lake. G sighed. He hobbled outside and came along side his partner.

"You sleep well?" Sam asked, placing an arm around G's shoulders.

"Better than I thought I would."

"You were out cold in a few minutes."

"Must have been the teddy bear."

"The stress."

"That too." G smirked. "And the great company."

Sam nuzzled G's neck and kissed him there. "Hungry for dinner?"

"You rustle up some of that too?"

"Ordered it and it was delivered an hour ago," Sam said. "It's in the oven waiting for us."

"Chinese?"

"You know I love the stuff." He turned to walk back inside.

"Sam… I… will you… kiss me."

Sam faced him, leaned down and cupped G's face in both hands, tenderly kissing the man's open mouth.

"I want you."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"No longer afraid of the consequences?"

"I need you." G sighed. "I want you to make love to me."

Sam kissed him again, plundering G's mouth with his tongue and sliding his hands down to squeeze his partner's buttocks. He finished the kiss with a long, tender suck on G's lower lip before releasing it.

G swayed with a euphoric feeling, one he had not felt in years. "More."

Sam wrapped his arms around his partner's shoulders and helped him back into the log cabin. "Bed or sofa?"

"Start with the sofa."

He settled G onto the sofa and stoked the wood stove with a couple of more huge logs. Sam sat next to his partner. "After this there's no turning back."

"I know… I want you… make love to me."

Sam slid his left hand inside G's button down, aqua blue shirt, stroking his hand across a nipple while kissing him. With his other hand, he unbuttoned the man's shirt revealing more of his lightly haired chest. Now with both hands inside G's shirt, Sam stroked his nipples and kissed him more fervently, wanting him as much as G wanted him.

"Please… not too much teasing… can't take it…."

Sam finished unbuttoning his shirt and slowly peeled it off G's shoulders while continuing to kiss his lips and then neck.

G slid both hands under Sam's dark blue long sleeve t-shirt.

Sam pulled the shirt completely off his partner and pushed him onto his back. He removed his own t-shirt and laid on top of his partner. "I like you in this position, squashed and helpless."

"I like this too."

He wrapped his arms around G's shoulders and raised him up to meet his eager mouth. Sam plundered his partner's mouth until they were both breathless.

"Bed."

"Too warm?"

"Yes, and it's getting hotter in here."

"I like the sound of that." Sam stood and lifted G into his arms, carrying him into the master bedroom. Earlier he had anticipated this and lit the room with a dozen LED pillar candles. He settled G onto the center of the bed and cuddled next to him.

"Perfect." He pressed his body backward into his new lover's warmth, feeling Sam's hard member pressing against his buttocks.

Sam reached down and unbuttoned his partner's pants and inched the zipper down. He shimmied the jeans down G's legs along with his boxers. Boxers with hearts on them. He wondered about the story behind them.

"I bought them for this occasion."

"I like your choice in underwear."

"Think of it as underwear with a message."

Sam tossed the pants onto the floor behind him. "I like the sentiments." He snuggled closer to his naked partner.

"I want to undress you."

"Nope."

G sighed.

Sam reached down and unbuckled his belt, released the button on his jeans, and unzipped his pants. He shimmied off his own jeans and tossed them on the floor.

"No underwear?"

"Not when I know what's up and coming." He pressed his semi-rigid member between G's legs and slid his hands down the man's chest and torso to his hardened member. "Something else is up and close to coming."

G moaned and pressed backward into Sam's warmth. "Make love to me. I need you. Now."

* * *

I hope you enjoyed this chapter filled with **_discovery_** for both Sam and G.

Thanks for reading.


	9. A Sheltered Past

**Thank you for the encouraging review, Lulu.**

* * *

** A Sheltered Past**

**Chapter 9**

G hobbled into the kitchen, following the smell of coffee and bacon.

"There's a bathrobe for you in the living room."

"You want to expose my scrawny body to all the gawkers on Big Bear Lake."

"Nope, I want to ogle your sexy bare ass."

"How sweet." G grabbed the fluffy white turkish bathrobe off the sofa and started to dress in it.

Sam surrounded his partner with both arms, drawing the man backward into his body. "You've gained enough weight to be that sexy man I've always loved." He nuzzled and kissed the G's neck.

"If you continue with that we'll be spending the rest of today in bed together."

"I like the sound of that," Sam said, turning his partner around to kiss him. "If you prefer we could have breakfast in bed."

"I'm afraid I'll never want to get out of bed."

"So last night was good?"

"I think I'm in love."

"With?"

"All of you and your lovemaking skills only add more to love."

"I want to take you to the next step tonight."

"That's what concerns me."

"Even after last night?"

"Yes, sorry, it's not you."

Sam drew G into a hug. "We'll go as slow as you need to."

"Don't get me wrong—"

"I'm hearing you loud and clear," he said. "Let's go eat breakfast."

"Here." G pulled away and settled down on the sofa.

Sam brought breakfast into the living room and set it on the coffee table. He sat down beside his partner, drawing him into his side.

"Why did you bring me here?"

"Two reasons."

"To make love to me and?"

"Hetty's orders."

"What?" G straightened, drew his legs underneath him, and faced his partner. "When?"

"All planned before we ever left her house."

He backed away, feeling as if he had been punched in the gut. "You knew all along—"

"Wait… stop jumping to conclusions."

"I'm not."

"You are."

G grabbed his cane and mustered all the strength he had to stand. "This is bull shit!" He hobbled out of the room and walked toward the bedroom. G sat on the bed and started dressing in his boxers.

"Hey, stop, can't you wait—"

"No!" He kept trying to dress. It was more difficult to dress than undress.

Sam came over to face him and grabbed his partner's boots.

"Give them to me!"

"After you listen to me."

"You've got two minutes before I tackle you and get my boots back."

"Hetty is protecting you from yourself."

"Right."

"She is," Sam said, "and I saw the way you reacted when you saw that container in the forest."

"It's not a damned container."

Sam's eyebrows raised.

"It's a bomb shelter."

"What?"

"At least I remember that," G said. "Now give me my boots."

"No."

He rose to his feet and hobbled across the room without the cane. "Give them to me, now." G grabbed them. Sam pulled on them at the same time and dragged his partner toward the bed. "Sam!" They toppled on the bed together, G landing squarely on top of his partner.

Sam released the boots and wrapped his arms around G's waist, cinching him down against his body.

"I think you planned this part." G smiled.

"I'm glad you're not pissed off at me about your boots."

He set the boots aside and planted a sloppy, wet kiss on Sam's lips. "Nope."

"Good." Sam lifted his partner's bathrobe and smoothed his hands over G's ass. "I want you."

"You're obsessed with taking this to the next level."

"And I know you want to find out what that's about."

"Since nothing has changed how I feel about you," G said, "I guess… I mean… damn…."

"Do you know what you mean?" Sam kissed him, not expecting an answer. He rolled G over onto his back and parted his robe, revealing his bare chest with a light mat of soft hair. Sam pressed his tongue toward a nipple.

G grasped his partner's face. "Wait."

"For?"

"I'm still not—"

"Don't think about this," Sam said, squeezing his partner's buttocks. "Just respond."

G kissed Sam again, forcing his tongue inside the man's hot mouth. "Damn," he said, breathless, "yes, just do it, go for it."

He rolled off of G and grabbed the bottle of lubrication off the night stand.

"Will it hurt?"

"I'll prepare you first."

"Tell me the truth."

"It always hurts the first time."

"And how do you know?"

"I've plundered a few bottoms in my life and everyone of them tells me it hurts the first time."

"You're gay?"

"No."

"Oh."

"I like the adventure."

"So I'm a one night stand."

Sam set the lube aside and leaned over his partner. "No, never," he said. "I didn't care about those men." Sam tenderly kissed G on the lips, sucking on his lower lip after the long kiss. "I care about you."

"Just care."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Nothing." G sighed.

"I know the sound of disappointment when I hear it."

"I thought you felt more than that."

"I do and I don't want to go too fast with you."

"I can take it."

"I'm falling for you, harder than I've ever fallen for anyone."

"Your wife?"

"This is far different," Sam said. "I can't really explain it to you, yet, because I'm not so sure I can explain it to myself."

"Sounds complicated."

"No, simple, but startlingly profound because you're changing my life every moment we're together."

G smirked. "No comment."

"Funny guy." Sam kissed him again, lingering longer this time and stroking across G's nipples with both hands. "I want to make love to you."

"I want that," G whispered.

Sam turned his partner onto his stomach. "First a massage to relax you." He drew G's fancy heart covered boxers off him and tossed them on the floor.

"You sure know how to tantalize your men."

"Only you."

"No one else got a massage?"

"Nope." Sam grabbed the bottle of lube and sat back. He pushed aside his partner's bathrobe and drizzled the liquid over G's buttocks.

* * *

**NCIS:LA NCIS:LA NCIS:LA**

* * *

A wide smile spread across G's face as Sam surrounded him in his arms. "No words to describe it."

"Did it hurt?"

"Not much. I was relaxed before you ever entered me."

Sam nuzzled his partner's neck. "Good." He drew G into his body, snuggling with him after their hour long lovemaking.

G's eyes moistened with tears. He tugged free from his partner's arms and climbed off the bed, hobbling to the bathroom without his cane. After twenty minutes he returned and sat on the bed.

"You okay?"

He grabbed a bathrobe off the floor and pulled it around himself, hugging his upper body afterward. G started to stand. Sam reached out and touched him. G jerked away. "Shit!"

"Easy."

"Can't, don't even try."

"What happened?"

"Don't know."

"Let me hold you, that's all."

"Can't."

G stood up, grabbed his cane, and hobbled out into the living room. He stared out the front window at the lake.

Sam came along side him. "Any time you want to talk."

"Don't say anything."

"I won't."

"I don't know why… I'm triggered by the… damn… the whole thing." G sighed and glanced down at the floor. The first time he got triggered was at Hetty's place. "I enjoyed… maybe not the best word… our time together." He eyed his partner. "And I… love you…." G stared out the window again. "And I want, no… I need you to hold me but it triggers me."

Sam sat on the sofa and waited for G to join him. G settled down next to him. Any closer and he'd be in Sam's lap. Sam wrapped an arm around his partner's shoulders. They stayed in this position for the next thirty minutes until G slid down and laid his head on his partner's lap. Sam drew a blanket around him.

"The whole deal… everything we did triggered me," G said after an hour had passed. "It's not you and then it is you. Don't care if I'm making sense. Permission to speak."

"I love you."

G rolled onto his back and gazed into Sam's eyes which were moistened with tears. "I love you too."

"I want to say this as innocuous as possible."

G took in a huge breath and released it with a long, loud sigh.

"Some people, not naming anyone specifically, often find that having sex triggers something when there is a history of—"

"Shit!" G sat straight up on the sofa, throwing off the blanket.

"Sorry I—"

"Don't," he said, "you said it as gently as you could, and I don't want to hear anything more about it." The reality sunk in deep within him. A flashback filtered into his mind. The underground bomb shelter. He saw the pictures in separate flashes as if they were snapped with a camera. G cringed and drew the blanket around this body, shivering with the new truth about what had occurred after his CIA partner had supposedly died.

"I need to go there," G said.

"That's not happening."

"I don't need excuses."

"I'm not giving you any," Sam said, "I'm following Hetty's orders."

"She wants to keep me away from there, because she doesn't think I can handle seeing inside it."

"Yes and more."

"Evidence."

"Loads of it."

"I need to see it."

"No."

G grabbed his cane and started to lift himself off the sofa.

Sam pulled him back down.

"Damn you!" G shot him a look. "Do you realize what it takes for me to get off this sofa?"

"Yes." He drew his partner into his side. "And you're not going because of that one thing."

"I'll use the wheelchair."

"And walking down the stairs into the bomb shelter?"

"I… don't do stairs."

"Thought so."

"You can carry me."

"Fat chance."

"You can't?"

"Fat chance I'll carry you down those stairs unless you've dealt with what you're remembering."

"Is that the way this is going to be?"

"Yes."

G grabbed the blanket and drew it around him, snuggling under it. "Okay, you win." He sighed. "But you'll need to call Hetty to tell her to widen the perimeter around the area."

"What?" Sam's eyebrows lifted high, creasing his forehead.

"I remember coming down from the lookout tower and she was there with a jeep waiting for me."

"That's odd."

"It was," G said. "I told her about Jarvis being killed and she told me to climb into the jeep. It was one of those open jeeps. I climbed into the passenger seat just as she sat in the driver's seat. Anna started the engine and I felt something sting me in the neck. Before I could reach my hand over to feel it, I was unconscious."

"And the next thing you remember is the inside of that bomb shelter."

"Yes, but it wasn't a few minutes later," he said, "it was hours later. That's when things took a turn for the worst."

"I'm mystified by the bomb shelter in the middle of the forest."

"I figure I'll know when I go there."

"Harping on that again."

"My shelter. My past. My life."

"Your shelter?"

"Okay, maybe not, but I was there, inside the damned thing."

"I believe you."

"I'm hungry."

Sam shook his head.

"What?"

"Never ceases to amaze me how you can change the subject so fast."

"I'm an undercover agent, it's my job to be elusive." G smirked.

Sam wrapped an arm around G's shoulders and drew him back into his side. "I think it's a good idea to eat breakfast before heading out to the site."

"You're serious?"

"Yes, I keep my promises," Sam said. "I know there's more to your story, but I'm a patient guy." He chuckled, stood up and walked into the kitchen.

G tottered into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around Sam's waist.

"I like this," he said. "First time you've returned the affection."

"Thank you for listening to me."

* * *

**NCIS:LA NCIS:LA NCIS:LA**

* * *

Sam and G drove in silence to the site where they had discovered the underground shelter. As they neared the forest service road, Sam noticed his partner's agitation growing. He reached a hand over to him, sliding it up his partner's thigh and grasping the man's hand.

"You okay?"

"Yes."

He knew better when he felt G's hand, warm and clammy. "Care to talk?"

"Stop."

"Okay."

"No, stop the damned car!" Before Sam could stop the Challenger, G rolled down the window and upchucked his breakfast.

Sam handed G some Kleenex and put the car in park. "Obviously you're not okay."

"I don't know if I can do this."

After setting the box of Kleenex down, Sam grasped G's hand again. "We don't have to do anything."

"The closer we get to that place, the tighter my stomach becomes."

"Close your eyes."

G followed Sam's instructions.

"Focus on your breathing."

"Faster than normal. Anxiety. Panic."

"I'd consider those feelings normal, considering what you're remembering."

"I need to tell you…." G squeezed his partner's hand and kept his eyes shut and faced the open window. "I think I was interrogated by Jarvis."

"I wonder why."

"Me too, Sam, because it's a sketchy memory and along with that is an icky feeling which makes me sick to my stomach."

"Describe icky."

"Something vile and wicked happened with Jarvis and… I don't know if I can tell you."

"I think I know what it is," Sam said. "I know if you have the guts to say it, that feeling inside you will dissipate."

"I know, admitting to the…."

"The oojamaflip."

G shot his partner a look. "The what?"

"The oojamaflip, the word one uses in place of the one they don't wish to say."

"I like that word."

"But you have to say it and then from now on we'll use my word in place of it."

"It's a real word?"

"Yes." G chuckled. "Leave it to you to come up with something unique."

"Unfortunately, I can't take the credit," Sam said. "My daughter taught it to me."

"Okay, damn… Jarvis used any means possible to interrogate me… including…." He sighed. "Rape."

"Thought so."

"How?"

"My first clue was how you reacted to me when I held you on top of me."

"True."

"The second was after sex the first time," Sam said. "And the third time when I penetrated you, was the most telling time."

"Great."

"Now that the word is out there…."

"Damn it, Sam, it's not just a word, it's an action, and I was in that damned interrogation room with a liar who raped me!" G jerked away from the closeness, stuck his head out the window, and vomited up the rest of his breakfast.

Sam handed his partner some more tissues. "That's not what I meant and you know it." He patted G's back. "I didn't want you going in there alone."

"I was stubborn as usual." G wiped his mouth and chin with the tissues. "I didn't have a clue what I was up against without my memories intact." He took in a huge breath and released it with a loud sigh.

"Better?"

"A little," he said. "I could use a man hug."

Sam dropped the Kleenex box and pulled G into his arms. He patted and rubbed his back. "Glad we stopped for some healthy snacks for our trip."

"Not hungry."

"You will be later," he said, pulling some ginger from the console and handing it his partner. "This will help with the nausea."

G sat back and unwrapped the ginger snack.

"Suck on it."

"Something I'm good at." G winked at his partner.

"Quite good." Sam licked his lips. "From now on it's oojamaflip, okay?"

"Yes."

Sam took the Challenger out of park and drove toward their destination. When they reached the cul-de-sac clearing, he found a place to park the car amid the sea of cars from various federal agencies. Sam turned to eye his partner. "Wheelchair or cane?"

"I so much want to use the cane but… let's go with the wheelchair in case you need to push me back here."

"Good choice and I'll bring the folding cane with us." Sam exited the car and opened the truck and pulled out the wheelchair and his backpack. This time the backpack was heavier because of the food he brought for them. His partner had a bad habit of not eating well when stressed. Sam brought the wheelchair around to the passenger side where G was standing ready to sit down. "You okay?"

"Sorry about your car."

"Don't even go there," Sam said. "We can take through the carwash later." He handed his partner a pair of gloves.

G settled down in the wheelchair. "This was a good idea." He donned the pair of gloves. "Can you… push me?"

"Tired?"

"All that emotional stuff tired me out."

"It's to be expected." Sam hoisted the backpack over his shoulders and pushed the wheelchair toward the trail. When he reached the trail's summit, he observed G squirming in the wheelchair. "Want to stop?"

"No." He gripped the armrests and tensed his body, waiting for the inevitable: His team and Hetty firing off question after question about the bomb shelter. Answers he didn't have.

"You don't owe anybody anything."

"Oojamaflip." G smiled.

"Yes." Sam chuckled. He pushed the wheelchair down the slight slope to the shelter site where several federal agencies were busy combing the surrounding area searching for clues. On level ground, he removed the folding cane from his backpack.

G raised himself out of the wheelchair and grabbed the cane from his partner. This time was easier than before. Little by little he was improving and getting stronger. He tottered toward his team and Hetty.

"Mr. Callen, you're doing well with the cane."

"Thanks."

"What would you like to do first?"

"I need to see down below."

"You know what this is."

"Yes, it came back to me."

She lead him to the entrance. "It's all yours," Hetty said. "Your team has been down there for the past day. No one is down there right now. I thought you and Sam could use some privacy. I do know how difficult bringing up the past can be." She stepped aside and watched her lead agent.

G stared down the stairs. The last thing he wanted to do was go down there. Yet he needed, no, demanded answers and this was the only way to get them.

"Right behind you, partner."

"Maybe you should be in front of me."

"To break your fall?" Sam chuckled.

G laughed and handed his partner the cane.

Sam took the stairs first at an extremely slow pace. G followed close behind him, keeping one hand on a railing and his other hand on his partner's back to steady himself.

"Need to rest," G said, halfway down the stairs. He settled down on the stair and panted. This was a lot more work than he had anticipated. "I don't know if I can make it."

"We'll rest as often as you need it," Sam said. "Don't push yourself."

G attempted to stand and lacked the strength in his legs. "Damn it." He tried again and failed. "Can't." Tears formed in his eyes.

Sam helped him to his feet and took his hand. "Lean on me as much as you need to."

He buried his face in his partner's side. "Sorry, I think this was a bad idea."

"Nope." Sam scooped G into his arms and carried him down the stairs.

"I was only joking before."

"I'm serious." At the bottom, he settled G on his feet.

"Glad one of us works out."

"You will again soon and believe me I'll push that scrawny ass of yours."

"You said it wasn't scrawny." G winked at him.

Sam pulled him into an embrace and passionately kissed him, leaving them both breathless. He squeezed G's buttocks with both hands. "No longer scrawny."

G moaned. "If you don't cut that out—"

"We'll have to stop for some nookie?" Sam kissed him again, this time on the neck.

"Don't leave a mark."

"Maybe later at the cabin I'll leave my mark and claim you."

"Believe me, you've done that." G kissed him back. He turned and faced the interior of the underground shelter. It was exactly as he remembered it; round, gray toned walls on the sides with a flat bottom and two corridors which split off the main one, each tube about ten feet wide.

G shivered and stepped forward, tottering toward the right corridor.

"I'm following your lead," Sam said.

In the joining corridor's entrance, flashbacks filtered into this mind. He stopped and stared down the tube, hesitating longer than he had anticipated.

"You okay?"

G wavered as if a strong wind was blowing in the corridor. He grabbed the edge of the tunnel.

Sam came behind him, surrounding G's waist with both arms. "Let go. Talk to me."

"I'm starting to remember," he said, his voice quavering.

"Good, I'm here."

"Not good." G panted as flashbacks continued to invade his mind. He leaned backward into Sam's strength.

"One memory at a time."

"I don't know if I can do this."

"Think of it this way, you may not want to come back here once you leave."

"True." G sighed and tottered forward, leaving the safety of Sam's arms. His partner was right about that one thing. Once he left here that was it. The thought of stepping one foot down into this hell hole of memories again chilled him right down to his toes. He shuddered again. G hobbled toward the place which had haunted him in his mind for the last day since Sam and him had discovered this place.

He stood staring at the bunks, two sets of twin bunks against one wall. His body started shaking the minute he saw them. The flashbacks renewed, coming in a flood of memories faster than he could handle them. His knees started to buckle, threatening to send to the floor in a heap.

Before G slid to the cold steel floor, Sam wrapped his arms around his partner's waist and held him upright. "Easy."

"I can't."

Sam felt G's body shuddering hard. "Close your eyes. Breathe. Slow, easy breaths."

G sighed several times before he could follow his partner's instructions. He closed his eyes and relaxed in Sam's arms, feeling the man's warm strong body against his was all he needed to steady himself. G breathed in long, slow breaths and released them in the same way.

"I was here, on the bottom bunk naked, restrained and drugged," he said after his breaths had evened out. "I'd spit out the pills Jarvis forced me to swallow. I waited until he was down the corridor and spit them out across the bed, hoping they'd land far enough away that he wouldn't see them." He sighed. "Some of the drug remained on my tongue and made me drowsy and hallucinate." He breathed slower again, forcing himself to relax in his partner's arms. "I heard them both talking and then arguing about me and what to do with me. At once they agreed that Jarvis should continue to interrogate me, using any means possible to make me forget where I was and that he was still alive."

G sighed and pressed his body backward into his partner's strength and warmth. "Hold me tighter."

Sam nuzzled G's neck and drew him into his body, pressing his groin against his partner's firm buttocks. "Good?"

"Yes." He felt Sam's muscles against his back and the hard member between his partner's legs pressed against his buttocks. "I don't want to wait for that mark you promised me."

"I understand." He pushed G's head to the side and kissed him hard and passionately, forcing his tongue into his mouth. "You _are_ mine." He sucked on G's lower lip, released it, and trailed his tongue along the man's jaw bone, sucking and nibbling until he reached his partner's neck.

Sam kissed him tenderly at first, flicking his tongue across the fine hairs then up to G's ear, probing it with his tongue and back down to his neck. He sucked and licked on it until he could not stand another minute without claiming G. Sam sucked harder, knowing he was going to leave a telltale sign of his ownership on his new lover's neck. He finished with sucking and nibbling on G's earlobe.

G gasped and panted, his member stiffening in his tight jeans. He felt his partner's member stiffen further.

"_Mine_," Sam whispered, wrapping his arms around G's waist again and snugging him back hard against his body. He ground his groin into his lover's buttocks.

"Yes." G hissed through his pursed lips. He refocused on his breathing. "After their heated argument, Jarvis came over to my bunk, pulled me off it and forced me against the opposite wall. He raped me. It was the first time."

"I'm sorry, you didn't deserve that." Sam kissed G's neck where he had made his mark, emphasizing who G belonged to right now.

He sighed. "After that he took me down the other corridor and into a small room. He tied me to a chair and interrogated and tortured me. It lasted a long time. And I don't want to go down that corridor."

"We won't."

"When he had beat me into unconsciousness, Jarvis returned me to the bunk in here. I faked it. I needed to know why they wanted me to forget everything. I listened to their conversation again, which was arguing like before. Only this time it was about something else not me. It was just as intense though."

"And you now remember everything?"

"Unfortunately, yes, there's lots I'd like to forget ever happened."

"Brain scientists say you remember the worst and the best times in your life."

"After this, I can believe it."

Sam kissed G's neck again. "I love you," he said. "Unfortunately, I got a little carried away with your neck."

"Not unfortunate, I loved every minute of it."

"I hope you feel the same way when you see the mark."

"I wish I had my button down shirt on instead of this aqua blue t-shirt." G smirked.

"I'm glad you don't."

"You want to show me off to everyone?"

Sam chuckled.

G relaxed in his lover's arms. "I guess it comes with the territory of a great lover."

He kissed G's neck again.

"There's more that I remember." He sighed. "I heard the reason for their anxiety over my presence in the vicinity of this underground shelter. They were smuggling money from the cartels in Central and South America."

"What?"

"You heard me." G turned his head and eyed his partner.

"What are we talking about, a lot?"

"Millions, which would amount to a lot more now," he said. "And they were trading guns for more money and stashing it all within this shelter."

"That means it's still here."

"Somewhere, they lowered their voices when the location was revealed. I tried to listen but my head was throbbing by then from Jarvis's abuse. My guess is they planned to kill me and then come here to get their money."

"That makes sense."

"They don't believe I remembered anything," G said. "I think Jarvis can confirm that for Anna or whoever she is. I didn't have a clue about what these two were doing until I came down here. The memories hit me hard the moment I stepped into the doorway of this corridor."

"Nothing before that?"

"I knew he raped me here. That's all."

"I think we need to let Hetty and the FBI take over, tearing this place apart until they find the stash."

"I agree," G said, "I've got no desire to be down here during that time."

Sam helped G back to the stairs. "Want me to pick you up?"

"No, let me go first."

"I get it," he said, "now you want to use me as your soft pillow should you fall."

G faced Sam and surrounded his neck, drawing him down for a passionate kiss. "Thank you." He handed him his cane and turned back toward the stairs, grabbed both handrails and pulled himself upward to the first step. "I might need a boost later, about halfway." G took another step with his left foot and rested. Then his right foot and repeated with his left, resting afterward. "I think this might work."

"Take your time."

G froze in place, staring through the stairwell at a steel column which the stairs wrapped around. "I know where the money is stashed." He pointed to the column.

"You just had a flashback?"

"Yes," he said, "I heard them and saw them stashing money and weapons into it. Let's go back down and check it out."

"No, your job is done."

"Sam?" He faced his partner.

"No."

"Damn."

"The strain of this has worn thin on you, but you don't know it yet," he said. "Remember, you vomited up your breakfast."

"I forgot about that."

"You need to save your strength."

"And I know why." G grinned wide.

Sam stepped up behind him. "You coming onto me again?" He slipped his arms around his partner's waist.

"Yes." He smirked.

"Can't wait until later on tonight after you had your nappy with your teddy bear." He chuckled.

G laughed.

Sam licked his partner's neck. "Let's go." He released him.

"And hot cocoa with a blankie?" He chuckled, stepping upward again with his right foot, followed by his left foot, resting after the effort.

"How about something hard yet pliable?"

"I wonder what that could be?" G repeated his routine. "Is it short or long? Flat or round?" He stepped upward again. "I know what it is. Chocolate Chip Cookies."

Sam chuckled. "You wish."

"I love your recipe." G pushed forward again and rested.

"Which one?" he asked, stepping close behind his partner and stroking down G's back to his buttocks. He squeezed his butt cheeks and released them.

"Damn, you're asking for me to use you as a cushion if you keep that up." G's legs quivered with his partner's sexual touching.

Sam reached around to his partner's member and gave it a few strokes. "It's soft yet getting harder and it's pliable."

"Quit it." G panted and tried to step upward. His mind was willing but his body was weakened from his partner's insatiable urges. "I can't concentrate and focus my energy on this."

He stepped up behind his partner and pulled the man backward, caressing his nipples and chest.

"Sam!"

"Yes?"

"You need to stop. I'm serious."

"You seriously have no strength for stepping up the stairs."

"Damn, no, you're teasing me and my legs are quivering."

"I know and I love when you can't move because of my insatiable sexual urges." Sam sucked on his lover's earlobe. "Delicious." He smacked his lips.

G turned his head. "You go first."

Sam started to unbuckle G's belt.

"No!"

"Well, you told me to go first."

G laughed. "You and your one track mind."

"I think it's about time the Challenger had its upholstery cleaned."

"What?" His eyebrows raised upward.

"You know exactly what I mean." Sam released him.

G started up the steps again, following his routine. "I guess there's a first time for everything."

"Definitely."

Almost at the top of the stairwell, G found he lacked the strength to continue. He rested for ten minutes without regaining the energy to move. "I need to sit down."

"Nope." Sam stepped up closer to him and lifted G into his arms. "Put your arms around my neck."

"You don't have to—"

"But I want to." He reached the top step and settled G on his feet, handing him the cane. "Hetty, we could use the wheelchair over here."

G leaned into Sam no longer able to stand on his own.

One of the FBI agents rushed the wheelchair over to them.

"Thanks." Sam helped his partner into it and took the cane from him.

"Hide my neck from her," G whispered, propping the left side of head up with his hand.

"I'll try." He situated the wheelchair so that their operations manager could not see the left side of G's neck.

"Looks as if you two are deadbeat tired."

"He is for sure."

"I won't keep you too long," Hetty said.

"They were smuggling drug and weapon money from Central and South America cartels."

"They?"

"Jarvis Martin and Anna Chapman."

"The Anna Chapman?"

"I doubt it," Sam said, "G said the woman loved that spy from Russia. The stairwell wraps around a steel column where they stashed the money. He said there might be weapons in there too. Drugs are a possibility as well."

"You me told about the run in with Ms. Chapman, and I wonder if she might come after him again." She eyed her lead agent.

"Most likely."

"I want you both under protective services."

"No argument there," Sam said. "We're going back to the cabin on the lake."

"Wait at your car and I'll have someone escort you."

"There's more I'll need to tell you later."

"Send it to me on your laptop," Hetty said, afterward turning to her lead agent. "Good work, Mr. Callen, take care of yourself and get some rest. You just blew this case wide open."

"Thanks," G said with slurred speech. He closed his eyes, unable to keep them open any longer.

"Take good care of him, Mr. Hanna."

* * *

Thank you for reading.


	10. Spooked

**Thanks for the reading and the reviews.**

* * *

**Spooked**

**Chapter 10**

Sam settled G into the passenger seat of the Challenger and loaded the trunk with the wheelchair and his backpack and G's cane. He slid into the driver's seat and observed his partner's behavior for a minute or so. "You okay?"

"Peachy."

"Want to talk about it?"

"Not especially."

"You rather not have a protective detail."

"It's not that." G propped his elbow up on the door's armrest and rested his head on his upturned hand. "I'm whipped."

"I can imagine after those steep stairs." Sam slipped a hand over to his partner's thigh. G grasped his hand. "I love you, if that counts for anything."

"Me too," G said, stroking Sam's hand and closing his eyes.

"Just as soon as they are ready to follow us we'll go." Sam observed Kensi and Deeks and two FBI agents get into their cars. He started the engine and drove up the road toward the highway. "There's protein bars in the glove compartment."

"Not hungry."

Sam stroked G's thigh.

"Now you're crossing into territory where there's always energy to spare."

"I'll bet." He chuckled. "Thought so."

"You do that to me." Once on the highway driving toward Big Bear Lake, a creepy feeling in his gut started to make itself known. The further from the underground shelter he got, the more the feeling grew in his gut. G opened his eyes and scanned the road ahead of them. He released Sam's hand and tugged on his seatbelt.

"G?"

"Stop the car."

"What's going on?"

"Just stop the damned car." He grabbed the door handle and unbuckled his seatbelt.

Sam pulled over to the road's shoulder.

Before the car came to a complete stop, G leaped out the car and almost face planted. He managed to keep standing, swaying for more than a minute before regaining his balance. G patted the side of the car to keep steady while pacing on the side of the road.

After placing the Challenger in park, Sam rushed over to the opposite side of the car. "I'll ask you again—"

"No!" G kept his eyes averted from him. "I'm not talking to you."

"You angry with me?"

"No, just stop, just leave me alone." He stopped by the back of the car and stared at the two cars parked behind them. "I don't need this."

"Them?"

"The whole damned thing!" G started pacing again and stumbled on his feet, his gait still awkward from the accident. "Damn this all. And damn these legs that won't function."

"Easy, G, talk to me about what's going on in your gut."

"My gut?"

"Yes."

"I… don't know how to describe it," he said. "Ever since being down inside that… place… damn."

"You didn't deal with the memories," Sam said. "You only spewed them forth. That's it."

G stopped, steadied himself with the Challenger's door handle, and eyed his partner.

"Telling me about something is not the same as dealing with the emotions connected to that incident."

"Incident? My rape was an incident? Bastard!" G released the door handle and rushed his partner, pounding on his chest with his clenched fists.

Sam grasped his partner's wrists and held both hands away from his body. "I'm trying to be congenial about this and not trigger you."

G fell into Sam's body, tears flowing down his cheeks. "I'm not angry with you. Hold me. I don't care if they see us."

He let go of his partner's wrists and surrounded him with both arms. "This is rebound after your discovery," Sam said. "I would expect this." He patted his partner's back. "We need to get back in the car. It's not safe out in the open."

"Our team—"

"We have no idea where this woman is hiding."

"You're right," G said. "Will you kiss me?"

"You don't care?"

"Nope."

Sam cupped G's face in his hands and planted a tender kiss on his lips. "They're watching with their mouths hanging open."

"Good, it'll keep them on their toes."

"Shock value." He guided G back to the passenger door and helped him inside. "You know you walked fairly well without the cane."

"Except when I almost tripped on my own two feet."

Sam leaned over and buckled his partner's seatbelt.

G wrapped his arms around Sam's neck and drew him in for a kiss. "What about that romp in the Challenger?"

"Right here and now?"

"Sure."

"Not happening until this is all over."

"Ah, you don't want Anna Chapman sneaking up on us and ruining our lovemaking."

Sam pulled back and chuckled. "Something like that." He climbed into the driver's seat and buckled up. "Is it really Anna?"

"No, I think her name is Sarah. Maybe it was Sarah Anne. Don't remember her last name."

"I can understand why you'd block out that information."

"The team still has not found her name in the CIA's records?"

"Apparently not."

"That's odd." The moment Sam started driving down the road, the strange feeling in G's gut intensified again. He gripped his gut with his right hand. It felt as if there was an ulcer in his stomach. "You need to pull over."

"No, tell me what's going—"

"Stop!" G rolled down the window and stuck his head out. He swallowed down the bile threatening to erupt from the back of this throat. He pulled his head back inside the car. "It's the car. I can't stand the car. You need to stop."

Sam grasped his partner's hand. "Close your eyes."

"Not this again."

"It works, right?"

"Yes, you're right." G closed his eyes.

"Good, now focus on your breathing, calm it down, and then tell me what your gut is saying to you about the car."

"You know already."

"I've got an idea."

"Okay, tell me."

"First slow your breathing."

Sam was right as usual. He was close to hyperventilating from the strange feeling in his gut. Each time he focused on the feeling his breathing changed. G refocused on his breathing, slowing down each breath. "I was drugged and kidnapped the first time in a jeep," he said. "And then Jarvis, the bastard, almost killed me in your car." G sighed.

"Good. Keep going."

"That's about it."

"Feeling gone?"

"Yes, it is." G smirked. "Dr. Hanna extraordinaire."

"I could possibly replace Nate."

"You could definitely replace him," he said. "There's more uses for you."

"Uses?"

"For lack of a better word." G let go of Sam's hand and stroked his partner's thigh.

"I see where this is going."

"Right to the bedroom when we get to the cabin." He smirked.

"And you think I have a one track mind," Sam said, chuckling.

* * *

**NCISLA NCISLA NCISLA**

* * *

G and Sam settled down on the sofa before the stoked wood stove, cuddling after their hot lovemaking in the bedroom. They each took bites of Sam's homemade chocolate chip cookies while wrapped in each other's arms.

"Delicious," G said.

"Yes, you are." Sam chuckled.

"You want more."

"Always." He finished off his cookie. "Got a question for you." G nodded. "Actually two of them. Hetty wants a report. Kensi and Deeks want to know if they can sleep in here after their watch."

"There's goes the privacy."

"Your choice."

"Making me the fall guy."

"No, the heavy." Sam chuckled.

G slid down until his head was on Sam's lap and he was lying on his back. "As long as they don't complain about our passionate lovemaking." He snickered.

"I'll send them upstairs to the opposite end of the house."

"I like that idea. So they know we're an item."

"Kens called me and started questioning me about us."

G finished off his second cookie. "And you divulged all of our secrets."

"Nope," Sam said, running his hand over G's soft head of hair. "I told her if she wanted to sleep in the cabin she'd better be happy with knowing only what she saw." He leaned over and kissed G on the lips and ran one hand over his bare chest.

"You know we'll have to wear our bathrobes from now on."

"That's a shame," Sam said. "I like to ogle your sexy body."

"Me too."

"And my second question?"

"Damn."

"What? You hoped I'd forget I asked."

"Wishful thinking." G sighed. "I'm writing the report."

"I can if you don't want to do it."

"I'm afraid what it might trigger off."

"I brought your laptop computer with me."

"How convenient."

Sam leaned over and kissed him again. "No pressure."

"Right. No pressure from Hetty either. Fat chance." G wrapped his arms around Sam's neck and pulled him down for a kiss.

* * *

**NCISLA NCISLA NCISLA**

* * *

Late that evening, G sat at the solid oak, dining room table typing on his computer while Sam watched a football game on television in the den. They both had their weapons at their sides even though the FBI was on watch, and Kens and Deeks were upstairs sleeping.

A rush of wind rustled through the fir trees outside the cabin. The hair on G's neck stood on end. He grabbed his gun and placed it closer to the computer, ready to use it at any moment. Every time a tree branch scraped the roof or the side of the house, G startled and tapped his gun. The floor creaked behind him. He grabbed his weapon, cocked it, and turned to face the intruder, ready to shoot him.

"Damn it, Sam, I almost shot you," he said, laying down the weapon beside the computer. He turned back to the computer.

"You're too edgy." Sam leaned over his partner's chair and kissed the top of his head.

"That's a foregone conclusion."

"Maybe your suggestion was right."

"You think so." He smirked.

Sam helped G out of the chair and took him by the hand into the bedroom. After closing the door, he drew his partner into his arms, kissing him passionately on the lips and trailing kisses down his jaw bone. "You're over dressed." Sam slid his hands under G's bathrobe and massaged the man's buttocks. "You're way too tight."

"I thought you liked tight." He chuckled.

"And way too cocky."

"I thought you liked that too."

Sam shook his head and smiled. He sidestepped his partner over to the bed, flopping down on it with G on his back. "I hope you're more relaxed after this."

"Me too."

Sam rolled off his partner and positioned G on his stomach. Next he raised his partner's bathrobe and straddled his thighs. He started massaging G's shoulders first.

"There's the spot." He moaned into each deep push of Sam's hands.

"You need to practice your deep breathing exercises more often."

"I can't right now," G said. "Stop."

"What?"

"I said stop." He listened again to the noises outside. "Did you hear that?" G raised his head and turned to face the window.

"It's the wind."

"That wasn't the wind, Sam, I swear I heard a different noise."

"You're hearing things."

"No," G said, holding up a finger to his lips. "Shh."

They both sat up on the bed and listened.

After a few minutes, Sam pulled G into his arms. He whispered, "You're paranoid."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Lie on your stomach again."

"Why are you still whispering if there isn't anything out there?" G asked, smiling.

"Always the smart-ass." He pushed his partner face down on the bed and straddled his thighs again.

"There it is again."

"There's what?"

"That noise."

"It's a tree branch scraping on the roof," Sam said. "You're definitely spooked over Ms. Chapman coming to get you."

G glanced over his shoulder. "And you wouldn't be?"

He focused on G's lower back. "Here's a tension spot."

"Ouch, easier on that place," he said. "Well?"

"I guess if I were in your position I'd be a tad edgy."

"Just a tad."

"Remember, I'm a big strapping guy." Sam chuckled.

"And I'm a scrawny assed guy, is that it?"

He slid off his partner's legs and faced him. "You really are nervous about this."

G kept his face buried in the down comforter.

Sam drew him toward him until they were facing each other. It was then he saw G's wet eyes. "Let me hold you." He pulled him into his arms. "You're safe. You're team and I have you covered. And the FBI is here for backup." Sam patted G's back.


	11. Deadly Intent

**Thanks for the reading and the encouraging reviews.**

* * *

**Deadly Intent**

**Chapter 11**

G focused on finishing the report Hetty had asked him for hours ago. His mind wandered again every time he heard a sound outside. At this rate, the report would get done later not sooner.

Sam entered the dining room with hot cocoa and cookies.

"Another distraction."

"I hope a pleasant one." He smirked.

G chuckled and grabbed a cookie off the wooden serving tray. "You know you might run out of these." He took a few bites.

"Not going to happen."

"Well, there's something good about that."

Sam sat beside him. "You still uptight over Ms. Chapman?"

"Nope," he said, "all relaxed in my shoulders and back."

Kens walked into the dining room and motioned for Sam to follow her.

"You can tell me too," G said, faking a pout as he watched them leave.

Sam returned in less than two minutes. "You and I need to have a talk in the bedroom."

"They heard us making hot and passionate love and now—"

"Come on, let's go." He took G by the hand and lead him back into the bedroom.

G settled down on the bed with a cookie in his hand, lying on his side.

"Put that aside." Sam took it from him.

"You're too serious," he said, "and ruining my fun."

"You need to get serious."

"I was and you told me I was too uptight and—"

"G!" Sam settled down beside him, placing the cookie on the nightstand. "We got a major problem. Hetty has been notified."

"What kind of major problem are we—"

"Just listen to me."

"Stop cutting me off."

Sam folded his arms. "Well, listen." Sam sprang off the bed and stared at his partner. He glanced at the heavy drapes covering the window beside the bed. He refocused on his partner, staring at him. "I was wrong to call you paranoid."

"Something happened outside, and I really did hear a different noise."

"Yes. Damn."

G stood up and surrounded Sam with his arms. "It's okay."

"It's not," he said, looking down into his partner's eyes. "I feel bad about this."

"Tell me."

"She murdered the two FBI agents."

G staggered backward and fell on the bed, covering his mouth with a hand.

Sam settled down on the bed and surrounded G's shoulders with an arm. "You've got to tell me how this woman is connected you."

He dropped his hand and leaned into his partner. "I don't want to hurt you, and it's a long story."

"I'm not going anywhere, and I need to know the truth."

G pulled away from Sam and laid down on the bed, turning to his side away from his partner's scrutiny. "I… she and I were lovers."

"Makes sense."

"How so?"

"The manner in which the two agents died."

"How many hits each?"

"More than enough to kill each of them at least a dozen times over."

"A crime of passion and hurt."

"Yes, go on."

G sighed. "Everything was going fine in our relationship until she asked me to commit the crimes she had masterminded," he said. "I refused to participate in her plans."

"I'd imagine she became enraged."

He remembered back to that particular day. Enraged put it mildly. Sarah had gone from an attentive lover to a crazed woman in a matter of seconds. He had never seen this side of her. It was the first time he questioned his relationship with her. And the first time, he distrusted a lover. G had withdrawn from her afterward. That single act escalated Sarah's rage and destroyed their relationship in a matter of days.

"Yes." It was all he cared to say to his new lover. Every moment he had been on edge with Sam, believing a part of his partner had never been revealed to him. Five years proved to be a number and not reliable for a trusting relationship. He questioned himself and his own judgment.

"G?" Sam rolled his partner over to face him. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

"I'm not going to suddenly blow a cork."

"Okay."

"Look at me," Sam said, grasping his lover's face with both hands and planting a soft kiss on his lips. "I love you."

"That's what they all say."

"Until they change before you very eyes… right?"

"I guess so."

"I won't."

"Trust."

Sam nodded. "I get it. I hear you loud and clear."

"She wants me deader than dead."

"I can imagine why," he said, standing and helping his partner off the bed. "I need you in the shower."

"I can defend myself."

"And if you need to run?"

"It's a foregone conclusion that's an impossibility."

"Shower with your weapon."

"I guess I have no other choice."

"It's the inner most room in this entire house with no windows."

"You're right."

"Stay here and I'll get your gun."

"How long ago?"

"During the time you heard the strange noise."

G watched his partner leave and return with his weapon.

Sam handed him the gun and extra cartridges filled with bullets. He took his partner by the hand and lead him into the bathroom. "Don't come out until I return."

"You're leaving me alone in the house?"

"Nope," he said. "I'm not leaving the house. I'm preparing it for the last time I'll ever see her alive."

G shivered upon hearing his partner's words.

The moment Sam left, his shivering escalated to hard shuddering which he could not stop. G closed his eyes for a few minutes, focusing on his breathing and hoping that would help him cope with his new reality. It did not and the uncontrollable shuddering continued.

He found himself holding his breath and had to remind himself to breathe normal. G was close to hyperventilating.

With footfall outside the bathroom door, he hitched his breath and readied his weapon, cocking the trigger and aiming it directly at the door at the same height as Sarah's head. G had memorized her height and her looks, knowing someday they would meet again. A head shot was the only way he could be sure she'd be dead after he shot her.

The door handle turned. G held his breath and tensed his body, waiting for his intruder.

Sam opened the bathroom door slowly, knowing his partner was on edge. "It's me." He closed and locked the door behind him.

G breathed out a huge sigh of relief, laying his gun on the shower seat again.

"Everything is ready."

"How does the owner of this house feel about us shooting up his house?"

"Deeks called him and he's fine with what's happening as long as NCIS foots the bill. Which they are," Sam said. "The FBI's elite team is scouring the area around here searching for Sarah Chapman."

"And no one's found her."

"They will—"

"Not." He sighed. "She killed two FBI team members."

"Security, G, not sharpshooters."

"They have to find her first." "You've got no faith in them."

"None whatsoever," he said, "besides I'd like to kill the bitch myself."

"What's got you riled up now?"

"Us waiting here in this house for her."

"You're in no condition to—"

"Kill her? Believe me I'm more ready than ever."

Sam eyed his partner.

"Well."

"There's something you're not telling me."

"Yeah, there is, and it's in my report."

"No, you're telling me now or I'll call Hetty."

"Tattletale." G made a face at him. "I was going to send it to her—"

"Either you tell me right now or I'll go get your computer and read it myself."

"Go ahead." G crossed his arms.

"You're angry with me."

"No, it's this situation of waiting for her instead of hunting her down."

"I think there's more to it than this situation."

"She started it."

"Hunting you?"

"Yes." G sat on the shower seat. His legs could no longer hold him up and he hated to admit that his partner.

"Tired?"

Damn. "I need my cane, okay, now you heard me say it."

"I think it's more than that."

"Yes, damn, I can't even stand here for too long," G said, "and it pisses me off. I'm in no condition to chase after her. And that pisses me off. Okay. You happy?"

"And?"

"She wasn't my supervisor."

"You lied to me and Hetty about this."

"I needed time to work through things in my head."

"And steer everyone in the wrong direction."

"For a while," G said, "I was going to tell everyone today."

"Who is she, G?" Sam stepped into the shower stall and loomed over his partner. "Who is this woman besides your hysterical ex-lover who's bent on erasing you off the face of this Earth?"

"Isn't that enough?" G grinned.

"This isn't funny."

"Didn't say it was," he said. "It just sounded funny the way you said that." G gazed up into his partner's face. "You angry with me."

"Honestly, yes."

"Because I—"

"You lied to me and your team and to Hetty," Sam said, crossing his arms. "I never thought you'd do something like this to stall for more time. Protecting yourself is one thing. This is something altogether different."

"I wasn't ready, damn, I'm not ready now."

"No more stalling or I dial Hetty's number and you can speak to her directly." He backed out of the shower and stood at the sink, facing away from his partner.

G stood and stumbled forward, unable to keep his balance due to his fatigue. He wrapped his arms around his partner's waist. "I need you."

"Then act like it."

He released his hands and stepped away from Sam. "I don't know how to say it."

Sam flipped on his heels and faced his partner. "No more crap!"

G startled and backed up. "She decided to use him against me to force me to go with her decision."

"When did this come about?"

"Down in the underground shelter."

"Kind of like programming or mind control or something similar."

"Yes, and it didn't work," G said. "I didn't change my mind. It frustrated her more that I refused to cooperate with her. Doing so went against everything I was and am. How could I commit a crime with her and live with myself? I couldn't." He settled down on the shower seat again. "After I refused during Jarvis's interrogation, she ordered him to rape me, hoping I'd change my mind."

"The interrogation came first and the rape second."

"The opposite of what I told you, I know, damn, had to lie. I wasn't ready to tell you what happened." G sighed. "I wasn't ready to accept what she did even after all these years. She was just a hell-bent lover who wanted her way, and I wasn't willing to go there."

"And now since you know everything about her operation, she wants you out of her life, forever."

"You could say that."

"And you wanted nothing to do with any woman ever since then."

"I swore off all relationships after her."

"Including me."

He maintained a moment of silence.

"You've acted as if you needed me," Sam said. "More like you've kept a safe distance, afraid to allow me into your life."

G glanced at the brown tiled shower floor. "Whatever feels safe."

"Makes sense." Sam sighed. "She betrayed your trust on too many levels," he said. "I hope you know I'd never rape you. I'd never make you do something illegal or anything which goes against your principles."

G kept his eyes averted to the shower floor and swallowed hard.

Sam crouched low on the shower floor and gently placed his hands on his partner's face, lifting it until their eyes met. "I meant every word I just said." He tenderly kissed his lover on the lips. "I love you."

"I'm trying to let you in." His eyes moistened.


	12. Sarah

**Thanks for reading and the encouraging reviews.**

* * *

**Sarah's Deal**

**Chapter 12**

Sam handed G his cellphone. "She's been calling you."

"And you want me to do what?" G glanced up from the sofa in the living room, looking at his partner as if he had lost his mind.

"Hetty wants you to answer it."

"Great and she'll zero in on my location and—"

"No GPS locator."

"Good idea." He stared at the cellphone for at least a minute, hoping he would not have to do this. It rang and he startled. Damn. He loathed his reaction to the ringing. _I need to be cool, calm and… whatever._

"Answer it."

G read her name on the caller ID. Some spy. She failed to hide her true identity. Blind rage made his ex-lover do all kinds of crazy, convoluted acts in the name of hatred.

"G?"

He answered the call. All he heard on the other end was ranting and raving. G expected it. Sarah was livid as usual and more angry that he refused to answer his cellphone on the first ring. With her he never answered his cellphone on the first ring. Long ago G decided he no longer wanted to listen to her bitterness and he shut her out of his life. Now he was paying for it, multiplied.

After several minutes of senseless yammering, he finally got a word in, but it was only. 'Hi.' Before she started in again about how Jarvis was arrested and the money was gone and she was going to kill whomever did both to her. Sarah wanted to know where the weapons and drugs had gone. She ranted on about them being missing. Next she started in on someone breaking into the underground shelter and invading _her_ domain.

G wanted to laugh about the last thing she said. _Her domain._ She discovered this underground shelter which had been discarded by the government years ago. Now it was hers.

Sam mouthed to him. 'Make a deal with her.'

_If I could get a word into the usually one-sided conversation. _"Sarah, if you stop talking for a minute."

"Stop talking? You want me to stop talking? How dare you even—"

"I'm prepared to make a deal with you," he said. "But I need to be able to talk to you."

"Okay, what kind of deal?"

"I return Jarvis if you stop trying to hunt me down."

"No way in hell, I want it all or I'll hunt you down for the rest of your life!" She screamed into the phone.

G glanced at Sam. He knew his partner heard every word from the woman.

Sam mouthed again. 'Make her believe you'll go along with her deal. Take your time to get there.'

"Sarah, stop ranting, I can't talk to you."

"Talk. Now. Hurry up."

"The money is in—"

"Don't give me your sob story, Callen, I'll rip your arms off at the shoulders."

He cringed hearing her real threat. This woman, in her fits of rage, probably could do as she said she would do.

"Give me back what's mine. All of it or I'll follow through on all of my threats, past and present."

"I hear you, Sarah."

"Don't you dare 'Sarah' me," she said, screaming into her cellphone.

He wondered how long her cellphones lasted after she blasted the device with her incessant yelling. "I'm trying to talk to you but you keep interrupting."

"You interrupted me."

"I had to because you kept on…." He opted to leave out the action which his ex-lover did on a regular basis. "You kept talking and I'm willing to make a deal."

"Only if it includes my money."

"You're asking—"

"Don't you tell me I'm asking too much or I'll—"

"I hear you and I'm trying to figure out how to get the money back from the feds."

"The money and the weapons and the drugs, the whole stash."

"Not happening Sarah," he said. "The money and Jarvis or nothing."

"Screw you Callen!"

"I'm going to hang up."

"Don't!"

He stopped talking.

"Are you there?"

"Waiting for you to make the deal."

"I hate this deal."

"Then I have nothing more to say." He turned off his cellphone and counted to ten. Sarah called again. G allowed the cellphone to ring three times before answering it. "Hello."

"Don't hang up on me again."

"I'll do as I please, Sarah," he said. "Don't 'Callen' me."

"Okay, I won't." She sighed.

With her sigh, G understood she had given up hope of getting everything her way.

"You have to meet me at the designated spot."

"Not inside it, not happening."

"Just in the circle of the California Poppies."

"You know that's impossible with the excavation of the underground shelter."

"Don't pull this crap on me, Callen, you know exactly what I'm referring to, right?"

"I do." He held the phone away from his mouth and sighed. G was beyond exasperated talking to his ex-lover. He wanted to nix the deal altogether. It was amazing how he had forgotten what a pain the woman could be until he got in a conversation with her.

G remembered back to the short time before everything changed. Sarah was the most loving woman he had ever known, attending to his every need, bringing him gifts, and sending him love letters. Maybe she was too loving, too smothering, and too demonstrative. Their short term love affair lasted a little over eights months. It never occurred to him that she had problems. Only looking back now at the whole picture had the crux of her problems revealed themselves. There was something completely off about Sarah right from the beginning of their relationship. It was obvious that Sarah had a personality disorder, at least a narcissist but likely she was a sociopath.

"Callen?"

"Yes?"

"Noon tomorrow, is that enough time?"

"Yes."

This time Sarah hung up first.

And G was relieved he would not have to shut his cellphone down first. The consequences of a second time did not bode well with his ex-lover.


	13. Negotiation

**Thanks for reading and thanks for the encouraging reviews**

* * *

**Negotiation**

**Chapter 13**

G loathed the next step he had to take, meeting with his former lover. He had laid down in the backseat of the Challenger for the ride to the underground shelter. Within minutes G fell asleep and was plagued by nightmares. After several hours of non-stop nightmares, his own screams awakened him from one of them.

Sam slammed on the brakes, stopping on the fire road and turning around to eye his partner. "You okay?"

"Stupid question."

He surmised it was when he studied his partner further. Sam got out of the Challenger and came around to the passenger door. He climbed into the backseat and drew his partner halfway onto his lap.

"You don't have to—"

"I want to. So stop fighting it and surrender to it."

G sighed and rested his head on Sam's lap. "Never thought meeting her again would give me nightmares."

"After you described her to me, heck, I would have nightmares."

"My brave-hearted protector would have—"

"Watch it man." Sam chuckled. "Let's get you back in the front seat for the rest of our ride."

"So you can keep my mind off her and on you." G chuckled.

"Something like that."

They climbed out of the backseat and sat in the front seat, buckling their seatbelts.

Sam slid his hand over to G's thigh. "I'll have your back side covered." He winked at his partner.

"I'll bet you do." He sighed. "Thanks." G rested his head on the door frame. "If I can pull this off—"

"If? You're good, no question about that."

"She's better or was."

"She's at the disadvantage and that's how you need to play this."

"Yes, I remember our talk." Yet he remembered her eyes, her lips… damn… their last real kiss. Not the one where she had used her love to manipulate him. The last _real_ kiss.

"G?"

Great. "I'm okay."

"Right," Sam said. "Did you hear what I asked you?"

"Obviously not."

"Wheelchair or—"

"You know the answer to that, and I hate the thought of her seeing me in it."

Sam exited the Challenger and removed the all-terrain wheelchair from the trunk. G was already out of the car and stretching out the kinks in his body by the time Sam brought him the wheelchair over to the passenger side of the car. "Your cane is in the side pocket."

"And my brain?"

"Don't tell me you lost that." He chuckled and brought G into a loving hug and kissed him. "Keep that brain of yours engaged and not your emotions."

"It's as if you're reading my mind."

"It comes with the territory, partners and lovers."

"True, closer than before." G kissed him back.

Sam helped his partner into the wheelchair.

"Weapon?"

"Satchel."

G patted the satchel over his chest for his weapon. When he found it, a smile spread across his face.

"And you have the ankle holster if you need it."

He leaned over and ran his hand over the holster on his left ankle. G sighed.

"I want you to close your eyes and I'll push you there."

"And she'll see me and shoot me and—"

"Not if she wants to negotiate with you."

"True."

"Now close your eyes and focus on what we talked about."

G went within, keeping his thoughts and emotions on the task at hand. He remembered back to the conversation he had with Sam earlier in the day. Once in that relaxed state, the images of his ex-lover started to emerge in his mind again.

"G?"

"We're there?"

"Yes." Sam stepped back to observe the interaction between his partner and Sarah. If necessary he was there to insure his partner's protection.

G took the cane out of his side pocket and readied it for use.

"Jarvis did a great job as always," Sarah Chapman said, strolling out of the woods to G's left and coming closer to him. Twenty feet away from him she stopped.

She was close enough for G to study the first and last woman he had vowed to love and make love to. Just as Jarvis had aged and his skin had severely wrinkled from the stress of searching for G, so had Sarah's skin. Her once super light, blond hair was now almost completely silver. It was obvious that she was still obsessed with fitness after all these years. Her body was agile and fit. It was the one thing he could never keep up with. Sarah was up at dawn to run through the streets of Virginia. Dawn was always too early for G. Her striking green eyes were more highlighted with the silver hair.

G expected himself to have a 'long lost love' feeling in his body for her. Yet he felt nothing. He was thankful he felt nothing. Instead he felt a deeper love for Sam which was growing stronger each day they spent together. He sighed. Every time Sam made love to him, he wanted more from their relationship and less from Sarah.

"I made sure he hit you just at the right moment," Sarah said, proud of her accomplishment at seeing her former lover in a wheelchair months after the accident.

"You tracked him by cellphone."

"Hell no, deary, I was in the backseat acting as I usually do."

G chuckled to himself. The quintessential backseat driver: Sarah excelled at the job to a point of being annoying. She had to control everything. It was one aspect of their relationship he disliked. He decided this would be the moment to stand with his cane. In one swift and steady movement, G raised himself off the wheelchair and stood, using the cane only for balancing himself.

Sarah's jaw dropped.

"Sorry to disappoint you." Apparently Jarvis had not talked to her about anything. Odd but good.

"So tell me, did you have pain?"

"Why don't we get down to the task of negotiating?" G asked, changing the subject back to the reason Sarah and him were meeting in the middle of a forest.

"You're not going to give me the pleasure of knowing how miserable you were," she said, sighing.

"What's the point, Sarah?"

"I guess there is none." She switched her weight from her left to right foot. "I want Jarvis and the money, the drugs, and the weapons."

Sounds like a duck. G figured she would ask for everything right off the bat. Sarah did not disappoint him. "Not happening," he said.

"Either everything or I start shooting."

"I'd take a look around you before you start following through on your threats."

She glanced around the woods to her right and behind her former lover. Sarah froze, unwilling to look behind her for more evidence that her every move was monitored. "Okay, you've definitely got me at a disadvantage."

"Jarvis and that's it."

"No way in hell!" She stepped toward him.

G drew his weapon and readied it. "Stand back."

"Pathetic."

"You mean you don't think I can shoot this."

"With a cane?"

"I don't need two hands." Sam had made sure of that, giving G a lighter weight weapon for this encounter with his former lover. He pointed it at her, cocked the trigger, and waited.

Sarah stopped about fifteen feet from him. "I'm not going to—"

"After you helped Jarvis make an attempt on my life you think I'm going to trust you?"

"I guess I wouldn't either," she said. "Jarvis and the money and weapons."

"Nope."

"Why are you being so damned stubborn?"

"I'm negotiating with a lying bitch," he said with a straight face.

"How dare you—"

"Tell the truth? Why not? Jarvis. Final offer."

She lowered her voice to the sexy, manipulative tone G remembered well. "Maybe you and I could enjoy the money on some deserted island in the—"

"I'm not interested in your offer," G said, keeping his weapon aimed at his former lover's forehead, right between her eyes. "My final offer is Jarvis. I suggest you take it."


	14. The Winning Proposition

**Thanks for the reading and the encouraging reviews.**

* * *

**The Winning Proposition**

**Chapter 14**

G trained his gun on his ex-lover's head.

She stepped closer to him.

"Stand down."

"I want what I want, and I'm going to take it no matter how I have to do it." Sarah moved closer.

G made his choice as fast as he did before the accident. He cocked the trigger and switched his aim, firing off one round into his former lover's shooting arm. The shot sent her reeling backward, gasping and grabbing her arm.

"You bastard!" She glanced at her upper arm. "You… you shot me. I can't believe you shot me. Bastard!"

"I told you to stand down."

Blood gushed from the open deep wound on Sarah's upper arm. "What kind of weapon is that?"

"Obviously one which made my point clear," G said. "You want Jarvis now?"

"Hell no! I want to kill you. You son-of-a-bitch."

"I wouldn't say that if I were you," he said, calmly. "I'm officially no longer the son-of-a-bitch." G chuckled at his stupid joke. Well, more like half of joke. He now had a father… somewhere on this Earth. "Jarvis?"

Sarah winced and squinted, her pain now obvious to G. "Screw him!"

G motioned for Jarvis to be sent out into the open.

Still half drugged from the drugs the CIA used during his interrogation, Jarvis stumbled out of the woods with his hands handcuffed behind his back.

"You've got to be kidding." Sarah stared at her lover. "What did they do to you?"

"He's okay… for now." Under his breath G said the rest. 'And you're next.'

"Damn it, talk to me Jarvis."

He mumbled incoherent words to her.

"Tell me what they gave you."

"Drugs to make him talk."

"Stay out of this conversation, Callen," she said. "Jarvis?" She inched closer to him, holding her bleeding arm.

"Your arm," he said with slurred speech. "Okay?"

"The bastard shot me. The damned bastard. I never thought…" She faced her former lover again. "Why did you shoot me?"

"I told you."

"Where's the drugs? The money? The weapons?"

"Nothing more." He raised his weapon again, aiming it at his ex-lover's head. "You'll sign an agreement to cease and desist all activity which pursues your endangerment of me and my team and hold harmless the CIA, the FBI, and NCIS."

"What kind of bullshit are you trying to pull, Callen?"

"No bullshit, I assure you."

"It is because all I have is Jarvis."

"And that is all you're going to have," he said, motioning a group of men to exit the woods.

All around them, a team of CIA agents entered the clearing and stopped less twenty feet from Sarah Chapman. One man closed the gap between the agents and her, holding a hard clapboard, paper, and pen in one hand.

Sarah's jaw dropped. It was one of the agents she had worked with years ago. Except now he was no longer the inexperienced young man from their earlier years at the CIA.

He handed her the clapboard.

"You expect me to sign this?" Her eyes darted from the paper to the CIA agent and finally across the field at Callen. "No way in—"

All the CIA agents readied and aimed their firearms at Sarah.

"This takes away all my rights."

"No, you remain in a relationship with Jarvis."

"Well, gee, thanks."

Her sarcastic tone was one he remembered clearly. Whenever she failed to get her way, Sarah balked at whomever had stifled her narcissistic need. G guessed Jarvis no longer held a place in her heart as he once did. That gave G all the satisfaction he desired from this relationship which had gone awry a long time ago. He could not help himself. G smirked.

"Satisfied?" Sarah asked.

"Very."

While muttering under her breath, she grabbed the pen from the agent's hand and signed the contractual agreement. Next she held out her hands, palms together. Sarah remembered the drill too well. She never expected to be the one someone else would handcuff.

Two more agents stepped into the circle, grabbed her wrists and shoved them behind her back. They cuffed Sarah hands snug and close to her lower back, giving her little wiggle room.

"Bastards."

G smirked again. He could not help himself, and he was not going to stop smiling over this turn of events. Sarah's interrogation would be next and that's all that mattered right now.

The lead CIA agent nodded in Callen's direction. "Thank you for this." Along with the two other agents, he lead Sarah with her boyfriend in tow to a waiting vehicle. They situated them into a jeep and shot her up with a sedative. Sarah's body slumped forward.

Sam stepped behind G and drew him backward into his body. "That's my hero."

"She hates me."

"You want her to love you?"

"Don't know," he said, leaning into his partner. "I'm confused about what I want."

"Makes sense," Sam said. "Now for a special rendezvous in the woods."

"What?"

"Valentine's Day is right around the corner and I planned a special event for you."

G's jaw dropped. "Here?"

"Chicken."

"Sam there's all these people and agents and authorities and—"

"Chicken."

"Yes, chicken, okay, satisfied?"

"It's either this or Hetty's debriefing."

"Her debriefing? What? You know I'm not… damn… you're joking right?" G sighed and turned to face his partner. "I knew it. A joke."

"Nope."

"When?"

"She said as soon as the case was finished she required a time for debriefing you."

Damn. He swore under his breath. It was the last thing he wanted to do right now. Too much had transpired with his actions, his speech, and within his mind. G did not need Hetty hounding him for answers. "I'll take the easy way out."

"I thought you'd see it my way." Sam wrapped an arm around G's shoulders and led him back to the wheelchair.

"I can walk."

"I'd rather you saved you energy for our romp in the woods."

"A what?"

"A romp in the woods."

"You scare me, Sam." He smirked.

"I hope I entice you." He helped his partner into the wheelchair and took the cane from his hand. Sam pushed G toward a destination in the woods far enough away from the clearing. Just inside another clearing, much smaller than the one they left and surrounded by a stand of Douglas-fir trees, Sam stopped. "Over here." He pointed toward a huge Douglas-fir tree.

G stared at the tree and the ropes around its trunk. "Just how long have you planned this?"

"After the time we had that extraordinary romp in the cabin."

"You mean the one where I sat on your… damn… you're restraining me in that rope contraption and suspending in the air and… damn… I won't be able to control anything."

"Precisely." Sam hoisted his partner into his arms and brought him over to the tree.

"Wait!"

"What?"

"No kiss… no prelude… no foreplay…."

"You'll get it all soon." Sam positioned his partner into the rope swing he had assembled.

"What about my clothes?"

He drew out a knife from his pants' pocket and unsheathed it.

G stared at it. "And you're going to do what with that—"

Sam slid the knife under the top button on G's aqua blue dress shirt. With the blade against the shirt, he popped the first button off with ease.

G's breathing hitched and his limp member hardened in his pants.

"Someone likes this knife play."

"Anticipating what you're going to do next."

Sam slid the knife downward, ripping off each button on his lover's shirt. He leaned inward, kissing his lover on the lips while caressing G's now exposed chest with a hand. The cool blade of the knife slid down to his partner's pants.

G shivered, imagining his lover stripping him naked with the knife.

Sam pulled back and placed the knife in his teeth. He unbuckled G's pants and pulled down the zipper. With one hand his grasped his lover's hardening member while he took the knife from his mouth with the other. Sam positioned the knife on his lover's tight jeans and ripped the fabric from the crotch up the butt crack, opening G's backside to whatever he wanted to do. He sheathed the knife and placed it the holster on his waist.

"Please…." G whimpered, wanting to be taken by his lover.

"Remember we're not in the confines of our log cabin on the lake."

"Your meaning behind those words."

"Don't scream too loud."

"You mean don't yell out your name too loud." G winked at him.

Sam chuckled. He unbuckled and unzipped his own pants, releasing his hardened member and pressing it along the ripped open jeans. He leaned into kiss his lover again. "You're mine. All mine." Sam trailed kisses down his lover's chin to his neck, sinking his teeth into G's skin and sucking on the tender skin where he had bitten him before.


	15. Debriefing

**Thanks for reading and for the encouraging reviews.**

* * *

**Debriefing**

**Chapter 15**

G trudged into NCIS Headquarters using his cane. He did not need it except to balance himself at times when a sudden bout of wobbliness overcame him. His partner was in the bullpen filling out their lengthy report. After taking the morning off, G was on his way to the debriefing with Hetty in Nate's office. He stopped off at Sam's desk and waited for him.

"You okay?"

"Peachy."

Sam chuckled. "Not looking forward to this ordeal."

"Wish it was over and done with long ago."

"You've put it off for a week."

G chuckled. "I'm good at that."

They walked side by side toward Nate's office.

"She said there was something new to tell me."

"I wonder what that could be."

G stopped outside Nate's office and sighed. "Me too."

Sam pressed him against a wall and kissed him. "You worry too much."

"I can be a worrisome guy, remember." He kissed his lover back and ducked under his arms, opening the office door.

Sam followed him inside.

G stood by the door and stared across the room at a man he had not seen in nearly a year. "Nate… I thought you were gone."

"Hetty asked me to come."

"For this?"

"Yes, please have a seat." Nate motioned with an open hand to the overstuffed dark brown sofa and matching chairs.

G swallowed hard and wondered why Hetty would ask Nate to travel halfway around the world for his debriefing. He took a seat on the sofa, farthest from Hetty and Nate where they stood in front of Nate's desk. Sam sat next to him.

Nate crossed the room and sat closest to G.

Just the act of Nate crossing the room unsettled him. He wanted to leave and it took everything within him to stay seated next to Sam. G squirmed on the sofa, changing positions, trying to find a comfortable spot. Impossible. "Is this about—"

Hetty waved him off, hushing him. "Mr. Callen." She eyed Nate and sat across from all three gentlemen. "This isn't about your partnership if that's what you're worried about."

G released the breath he had started to hold since Nate moved closer to him.

"Callen," Nate said, inching forward in his seat and lowering his voice, "Sarah… she committed suicide last night."

G's mouth fell open.

Sam reached out and grasped G's hand, squeezing it and letting him know he was there for him.

"I… need to see the body… her body."

"Of course, Callen, Hetty arranged for that." Nate inched backward in his chair. "Whatever you need to deal with this… situation… I'm here for you."

"She's here on the West Coast?" G stared at the fringed rug before him and then at the bookshelves behind Hetty's chair. Instead of being relaxed in his seat, he was on the edge of the sofa cushion ready to bolt from the room. _I want to run. No… that is not it. Hide. Maybe. Crawl up some hole and hide. This is not happening. Too many feelings inside me. I cannot cope with this right now._

"Yes," Nate said, "at the FBI's basement morgue."

G shot off the sofa and was halfway across the room before he realized he left his cane beside the sofa. Sam came along side him with the cane, pressing it into his lover's hand. G grabbed it and flew out of the room unable to speak to his lover and partner.

In the bullpen, he stared off into space without thoughts or feelings. G took out his keys and started for the exit.

Sam caught up with his partner outside near his car. "I'll drive you there."

G opened the car door and started to sit down. He was going through the motions without being present.

"Look at me." Sam blocked his partner from sitting on the seat. He drew him out of the car and closed the door, pressing his partner against it.

"I… can't… please… can't talk about this."

"I'm not asking you to do that," Sam said. "All I'm asking you to do is let me drive you wherever you need to go." He took the keys from his partner's hand and deposited them in his pants pocket. Sam grasped his partner's hand and lead him to the Challenger. He helped G get into the passenger seat and buckled his seatbelt. "As always, I'm here if you need to talk." Sam closed the door. He settled into the driver's seat and buckled his seatbelt. He reached his hand over and caressed G's face.

G leaned into his lover's touch. At least he felt something besides the dulling shock of his ex-lover's death.

"FBI?"

He nodded.

Sam started the engine and backed down the driveway and grasped G's hand entwining his fingers with his lover's fingers. "I love you." He brought his lover's hand up to his mouth and kissed it. "Whatever you need, I'm here for you."

"Thank you."

He brought G's hand his own thigh.

"And you?"

"It can wait." Sam sighed.

"What can?"

"A surprise for Valentine's Day."

"You planned something… wait… it's well past Valentine's Day."

"Yes, and I never got to celebrate it with you."

"There's always next year."

"It can't wait that long," Sam said, chuckling.

G hoped it was more of what they did in the woods. At first it freaked him out when Sam ripped the crotch out of his pants. Now, looking back on the whole scene, it was the hottest and sexiest escapade he had ever experienced. And he wanted more. It was a great distraction too, keeping his mind off what had occurred with Sarah.

They arrived at FBI headquarters and parked in one of the handicapped parking spaces near the front of the building.

"You don't have to do this."

Sam leaned over and pulled the placard from the glove compartment, placing it on his dashboard. "The less you walk right now the better."

"For whom?"

"You and I both."

"What?" G climbed out of the Challenger and grabbed his cane from the backseat. "Is this about the Valentine's Day gift?"

"Yes." Sam came around to the passenger side. "You don't have to do this."

"I need… I don't know what I need." He strode toward the door with a slight limp.

"You're walking better every time you don't rely on the cane."

"Thanks."

Sam opened the door for his partner and made sure he patted the man's backside as he entered the building.

"Are you trying to—

"Get you all riled up for tonight."

"It's working." G faced his partner.

"Those tight jeans are working their magic on my eyes," Sam said.

"One track mind." He walked up to the security desk and identified himself and his partner.

G and Sam presented their badges to the armed security men behind the waist high desk.

"You know where the morgue is?" one man asked G.

"Yes."

The man motioned them to the elevators and handed each of them temporary ID badges to wear around their necks.

Sam and G donned their ID badges and pocketed their own. In the elevator Sam closed the gap between his partner and him and stroked G's lower back, lowering his hand to his partner's buttocks.

"Sam."

"Yes?"

"Stop."

"I want you."

"I'm getting the message loud and clear."

"I hope so." He leaned in and nibbled on G's ear lobe. "Delicious, a taste of things to come."

The elevator stopped and Sam removed his hands and mouth from G's body.

"I'm glad you're not going to keep that up while we're walking to the morgue."

"I'll keep you warm."

"No doubt about that." G grinned wide.

Their footsteps echoed on the cement floor and marble walls as they trekked to the far end of the corridor.

G stood outside the door, staring at the words on it.

Sam placed his left hand at the small of his partner's back.

G took in a slow deep breath and released it with a long sigh. He opened the door and stepped into the morgue's outer office with his partner along side him. G never thought her death would cause such uncertainty within him. The finality of death had the opposite affect on him. First he needed to be sure she was in fact dead and that it was really her.

After giving the doctor at the desk his information, G requested to see Sarah Anne Chapman's body.

The doctor lead them both to a viewing room with a door beyond it. He opened the door and G hesitated in the doorway. The moment of truth loomed closer. G felt his partner behind him, caressing his lower back and encouraging him to go forward.

G stepped through the doorway and stood next to the doctor.

"Are you ready?"

Countless times he had brought someone into this room to confirm the identify of a criminal. Now he was the one confirming a criminal's identity. He practiced a couple of breathing exercises which Sam had taught him. "Yes."

The doctor pulled back the crisp white sheet, exposing the body.

G reeled inside, stepping backward and trying to breathe. _Breathe. He told himself. Breathe. _G stepped forward again and studied his former lover's body especially where he had shot her in the arm. A deep red welt and broken skin punctuated her neck. Suicide. Confirmed.

"It's her," he said, his words sounding hollow and distant even to himself. Before the doctor covered her with the sheet, G pushed past his partner, rushed out of the room, and searched for a bathroom.

"G!" Sam ran after him. He caught up with him in the hallway outside the morgue. "What do you—"

G planted his hands on the marble wall outside the morgue office, bowed his head, and hurled his breakfast and lunch all over the wall and floor.

Sam came up behind him and stroked his partner's back. "What do you need from me?"

Heavy heaving followed the loss of G's food. "I… can't… stop… just… stop." He held up his hand and brushed off his partner's questions.

Sam took G by the hand into the nearest bathroom and cleaned him up. "You don't need to say another word." He guided him toward the elevators. Once inside he drew G into his arms and rocked him in his arms, occasionally dipping his head down to kiss his lover on the forehead. Downstairs in the lobby, he took the temporary ID from his partner and his own, returning them to the main desk.

Outside Sam helped G into the passenger seat and buckled his seatbelt. He climbed into the driver's seat, buckled up, and grasped his partner's hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb. It was something Sam started doing in the rehab center. He noticed it calmed G and helped him sleep. That was happening right now.

G closed his eyes and rested his head against the car door.

"I'm taking you home."

"Sounds good," G whispered. He tilted his seat back.

Sam pulled a blanket off the backseat and offered it to his partner.

He grabbed it, turned to his side, and curled into a fetal position facing Sam. G tucked the blanket close to his face, hiding the tears flowing down his pale face.


	16. Under the Knife

**Thanks for reading and the encouraging reviews.**

* * *

**Under the Knife**

**Chapter 16**

Sam parked his Challenger at G's place and helped his partner out of the car. "Let's talk in the spare bedroom." He guided G into the house.

"Why?" G asked, shivering from the shock of his former lover's death.

"Our love nest is for later."

"I want to see it."

Sam sighed and took a blindfold out of his back pocket.

"Handy." G smirked.

"A must."

"The Valentine's Day surprise."

"Yes." He stood behind his partner and drew him backward into this body. "I thought you'd like to talk first."

"Afraid of what you'll think of me."

"I think you're the most wonderful lover I've ever had."

"Trying to flatter me will get you everywhere." He smirked.

"I'd imagine it would." Sam nuzzled his partner's neck and placed the blindfold over his eyes. He caressed G's chest down to his waist.

"Believe me, you don't need to do much to me right now," G said. "I'm turned on just knowing you planned something."

"I can tell." Sam rubbed his partner's nipples again.

"Damn." His knees weakened. "You keep that up and I'll never make it into our love nest."

Sam scooped his partner into his arms.

"Sam!"

"Yes."

"You… I mean… wow… I didn't expect this."

"The less effort you make, the more energy we have for playtime."

"Playtime… sounds interesting."

"Enticing."

"Lead the way."

Sam brought his lover into the master bedroom and settled him onto a leather sling. "Room warm enough?"

"Perfect."

"I'll ask you again later."

"You plan to remove all my clothes."

"Of course." Sam brought the sling toward him and pressed his hardening member against his lover's buttocks. With one hand he held him in place and with the other he positioned G's legs further apart, giving him more access to his partner's body.

"If you don't stop."

"You're that close."

"I need a huge distraction."

"Nope, first we talk." Sam released the swing and allowed the momentum to bring G's body back to him. He humped his crotch into his partner's buttocks.

"How can one concentrate with these tantalizing moves." G's breaths quickened with each swing. "Please."

"Talk." Sam stroked his partner's body while holding him in place close to him.

"I'm glad you can't see my eyes." He sighed. "Mixed feelings."

"That's what caused you to vomit."

"Sort of." He wanted to say this as innocuously as possible. "I'm glad Sarah's dead but at the same time I felt something for her."

"I'd imagine you'd feel both ways."

"I only wish." G hesitated again. "I wish I could've pulled the trigger."

"And you think you'd feel different about her death."

"Yes."

"No."

"Come on, Sam, if I killed her I would've controlled the way in which she died."

"Is that it? Is that the real issue at stake? How she died and you controlling it?"

G sighed. "I see your point. You don't need to say it."

"It's murder any way you slice it," Sam said. "I'm going to pull off the blindfold for a moment. Look at me and me only. Understood?"

"Yes."

He removed the black velveteen blindfold. "You're not a cold-blooded killer without emotions." Sam kept his eyes focused on his partner's stunning blue eyes. "You couldn't murder her in that clearing a week ago. And you had the chance. You refused to take that option."

"I wanted to especially after she told me how she directed Jarvis to murder me with the car."

"Did you?"

"Nope."

"That's my point," Sam said. "And would you feel any different? Probably not. No matter which way she died—"

"She took the damned easy way out!"

"I see where this is going."

"I wanted to make her hurt."

"Yes and you did."

"No. Not enough. She got off with a signature."

"You think that's what she got," Sam said. "It was worse. You refused to read the report the CIA/FBI joint task force gave us."

"I don't want to see how _they_ punished her."

Sam shook his head. "G, the report detailed her punishment and it wasn't pleasant." He replaced his partner's blindfold and left the room. Sam returned with a copy of the report."

"I don't want to hear it!"

Sam removed his partner from the leather sling and laid him on the king-sized bed. He laid down next to him and opened the report. "You need to hear this."

"She cheated me out of seeing her suffer."

"Now we're getting down to the bottom line."

"This is what I didn't want you to know about."

"It's what made you sick to your stomach."

G sat up in bed. "Damn." Sam was right. "Okay, yes, it goes against my principles."

"Rubs you the wrong way and yet you wanted to watch her suffer."

"She should've been punished!" A slow torturous death by his hands would have satisfied him.

"We're closer."

"That's it."

Sam straddled his partner's thighs and unbuckled G's belt.

"You're satisfied."

"Not yet." He unzipped his jeans and tugged them down off G's hips.

"I get it, you're going to make me suffer until I tell you the truth."

"I don't think you know the truth."

"So you'll torture me until I tell you."

"Nope," Sam said. "No boxers. I guess you surmised we'd be getting it on tonight."

"A man can hope." G smirked.

He slid off his partner's legs and removed his own clothes.

"I wanted to—"

"Nope."

"You're angry with me."

"Nope."

"You think I'm a bastard."

"Nope, you think you're the bastard for the way you feel and think about her." Sam removed his boots and piled his folded clothes on a chair.

"Yes, okay, I do and damn if I know what to do with these feelings. I loved her and hated her. I lost the chance to see her punished for her criminal acts. And Jarvis, that's a whole other problem."

"Don't sidestep the most important part of this."

"My principles."

"The beliefs or set of rules which guide your actions."

"Do you have to be so succinct? Don't answer that. Rhetorical." G sighed. "I'm trying to reason this out and think out loud with you. It's just not working for me."

"You don't need to talk that part out with me," Sam said. "I just need to know if you're going to be okay about having these dark thoughts and feelings." Sam removed G's shoes and shimmied his partner's pants down his legs and folded them. He took out his knife and slid the blade face up along G's shirt.

"Wait. This is my favorite shirt."

"Overused and in need of replacement."

"Don't. Sam."

"I bought you a new one, hanging in your closet. Same color. Same style." He slid the knife upward, taking out the bottom button.

"You love doing this to me."

"I love the knife play with you." Sam felt his lover's member harden more. "Your body responds to the knife too." He popped another button off and felt G's cock stiffen more. With each button, his lover's body shuddered. "Hold perfectly still." He took the top button and drew the knife, blade against G's skin, down his torso to the man's now fully erect member.

"You cut me?"

"Nope."

"Feels like it."

"Smooth, clean and clear skin." He sheathed the knife and set it aside. Sam pulled off the remainder of G's shirt and laid on his partner lengthwise. He loved the feel of skin to skin.

"I think you have an infatuation with my body."

"Think. Nope. No doubt about it. Can't get enough of this feeling."

"I'm okay."

"With?"

"The way I feel and think, at least for now."

"And your decision came about through the knife play."

"Damn, that's why you did that."

"Yes."

"That's why you did that to me in the woods."

"Yes."

"You know me too well," G said. "That's a creative way to help me deal with it. Thank you, Sam."

"It was the double edge play of the knife," he said. "There's the blade zipping through your buttons, removing them one by one. And the blade against your skin."

"Scaring me." G sighed.

"Demonstrating the two sides to your feelings."

Damn. "I… you're right." Two sides which he loathed having together. Two sides which he did not know what to do with... for now.


	17. Release

**WARNING: A little kink in this chapter.**

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**Thanks for reading and the encouraging reviews.**

* * *

**Release**

**Chapter 17**

Sam finished reading the joint task force's report to G. "Comments. Questions."

"I wanted to be the one exacting out her—"

"They gave her nothing to live for."

"And she took away their punishment."

"Are you going to rehash this until—"

"I feel satisfied."

"That may never happen, G."

He sighed. "I hope not because I need to feel this is finished."

"Those incongruent feelings in you need to be talked about."

"I've been talking to you."

"Not about those feelings."

_I avoid my feelings by arguing about who should have punished Sarah. It is safe this way. I will not get blindsided._

"G?"

"I'm thinking."

"Don't strain yourself." Sam chuckled.

"Very funny."

"Time for some playtime back in the sling."

"I'd like to see the room."

"I'll describe it," Sam said, remembering back to their hot time in the woods. "I designed it after our Angeles National Forest tryst."

"You mean in style, as in a tree in this room?"

"Come on, G, I wouldn't put a tree in this room."

"And when did you have time?"

"Remember we stayed at a hotel the week after returning from the mountains."

"And I thought you wanted to spend some extra special time with me." G smirked and chuckled.

"A crew came to your house while we were gone and set about constructing a love nest which I designed."

"How far in advance did you know about this design?"

"While I took care of you in the hospital and rehab," Sam said, remembering back to falling in love with G's body from the moment he first touched it. "After the tryst in the woods, I altered it to fit my tastes." Sam smacked his lips together.

"Is that a taste of things to come?" G chuckled.

"Only if you share with me."

"Damn," G whispered. "If you show me."

"Deal. You share something first."

"It's about feelings."

"Thought so. Hard for guys to talk about. Even harder to talk about if you've been through what happened to you."

G sighed. "I'm hiding behind my need to see her punished my way."

"Don't you think I know that," Sam said. "You started to talk to me about these feelings and shut it down."

"Easier."

"Yes."

"Do I get to see something?"

"Nope."

G sighed and rolled onto his back. "I'll just take this off myself."

"You won't."

"Why?"

"I'll punish you."

"I'm not into that kink."

"You're into kink, just not that far into kink."

"How?"

"Take you over my knees and spank you."

"Sounds interesting."

"Until your butt starts turning bright red and you start crying."

"Maybe that's what I need."

"Don't give me any ideas."

G placed his fingers on the edges of the blindfold.

Sam grabbed his lover's hands and pressed them above his head. He straddled G's thighs. "You really want to go there?"

"It might help me."

He rolled off of his partner and flipped him over on his stomach. "You're about to find out." Sam plastered his lover's ass with four hard slaps, two to each butt cheek.

"Stop!" G was breathless after four swats.

"Enough already?"

"That was… too hard."

"Let's start softer and build to a harsher slaps."

"I think I'll skip this and talk to you."

"Too late." Sam pulled G over his lap. "I think this will work just fine. Besides, I like this position for you."

"This is too kinky."

"Just the right amount of kink for our new love nest." He smoothed his huge hand over his partner's lightly reddened butt cheeks. "Nice. A slight warmth after that short session." He pressed a finger down his partner's crack.

G sighed. "Now that's what I'm talking about."

Sam followed it with a light slap.

G startled. "Don't do that."

Sam stroked up and down his partner's crack and slapped him with the other hand.

"Sam!"

"Yes?"

"That's wicked."

"Good." He continued the pace, quickening the slaps and at the same time hitting his partner's skin harder each time.

G squirmed on Sam's lap, trying to keep his butt cheeks away from his lover's harsher slaps. "Please… I can't… stand this… stop…." Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. "Not my kind of kink. Stop." He reached his hands back to block Sam's hand.

"You don't want me to stroke you like this." He emphasized his pleasurable stroking of his partner's ass crack.

"Damn it, you know I do."

"Then put your hands down."

"I don't want—"

Sam slapped his partner's buttocks with both hands, hard enough to leave handprints.

G tried to scream but nothing came out of his mouth. He panted, his vision blurring from the tears falling down his face.

Sam smoothed his hand over his partner's butt cheeks. "Nice. Hot and imprinted with my hands."

"That was…" he said, breathless still, "too hard."

"Nope," Sam said, "we're getting somewhere. I feel wetness on my legs." He fingered his partner's butt crack again.

"You're not starting this again."

"I am." He spanked his partner with the same intensity as when he stopped.

"No! Softer. I can't do this."

"Endure." He slapped him again, harder.

G sucked his lower lip into his mouth, holding back his scream. He tried to shut down the emotions welling up within him.

"Don't fight this, G, let it go."

"No."

Sam slapped him harder with both hands.

G pushed his chest off of Sam's right thigh, trying to escape his partner's harsh punishment. "I'm going to take this off."

"Go right ahead."

He knew by his partner's response that Sam would up the punishment if he removed the blindfold. G thought about it for less than thirty seconds and removed it. The room was completely different, at least where he was positioned on his partner's lap.

Sam slapped him harder and faster.

G stopped holding onto the feelings welling up within him. Tears flowed steadily down his reddened face. He cried louder with the harsher blows from his partner's huge hands. Soon his whole upper body shook from his wracking sobs.

"That's it, love, let it all go." He stopped spanking his partner and laid down on his back, pulling G with him and smoothing his heated hands over his partner's naked hot buttocks. "Nice. Can't wait until later on tonight."

G sobbed into Sam's chest, letting go of all the pent up feelings he had held onto for a long time.

Sam rubbed his partner's back and shoulders. "That's it, let it all go, G."

"Getting too cool."

"Okay." Sam reached for a remote control on the dark oak nightstand. With the press of a button, he increased the heat in the room and set the controller down on the nightstand. "You okay?"

"Better than when you started on my ass."

"Good. Care to talk?"

"Hold me." He sighed and relaxed into his lover's strong arms.


	18. Heat

**This is it. Thanks for coming along on another journey with me. Thanks for reading and for the encouraging reviews.**

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**Heat**

**Chapter 18**

Sam observed his lover sleeping as he lit twenty warm white LED candles. The moment G stirred, he turned off the overhead lights and slipped into bed beside him, cuddling up to his heated buttocks.

"Don't… sore…" G moaned.

"Too much?"

"I think you over did it."

Sam smoothed his hand over G's heated buttocks. "I wanted to see how far you'd go with this."

"Apparently I went for it."

"You goaded me and I acquiesced to your request."

"Thanks, Sam, it's what I needed even though I didn't know I needed it."

"Sounds about right," he said, lightly rubbing his palm over the skin. "Want something to cool it off?"

"Nope."

"I was hoping you'd say that," he said. "I'm going to take off your blindfold."

"I get to see what you created."

"Yes. Ready. Here we go. Keep you eyes closed so they can adjust." Sam removed the blindfold and set aside.

G slowly opened his eyes and lifted his head and surveyed his partner's creative hand. In a far corner he saw what appeared to be a tree trunk. "Sam! I told you not to put a tree in here."

"I didn't." He climbed off the bed and stood by the solid chunk of wood. "It's wood, floor to ceiling and as big around as a tree trunk."

"Smart-ass!"

"I found a way around your request to omit a tree trunk," Sam said, sticking his tongue out at his partner.

"What's that hanging from it?"

"Same as our tryst in the woods, a sling made from rope."

"Wicked. Liar. And I love you anyway."

Sam crossed the room in three strides. "You want more spankings for that sassy mouth?"

"I'm not goading you." He twisted his body and turned his head in the opposite direction, surveying the other side of the room. LED candles illuminated the whole room, bathing it in a soft warm glow. A leather sling was suspended from the ceiling near the sliding glass doors. There's something new, sliding glass doors. "A fireplace?"

"For those cooler than usual nights," Sam said, walking over and standing near the earth toned, slate tiled fireplace. "Instant on with an option of fake logs."

"Is that what's heating the room?"

"Yes."

"I love the idea. A bear rug."

"Fake. But what's going to be on it later tonight is going to be real. A bare G."

"I like that sound of that." G smirked.

"A crackling fire and a heated ass, that ought to turn up the heat a few notches."

"You plan to crackle my behind more?"

"Nope, not unless you request it again," Sam said. "Let's go check out your new bathroom and take a shower."

"You changed the bathroom?"

Sam helped G to stand without his bottom coming in contact with the soft covers. "Need your cane?"

"I want to walk on my own." He took a tentative step forward and felt steady enough to continue.

"You're walking better."

G walked toward the bathroom. Sam guided him to the new door in a different location than before. "You changed everything." He stepped into a luxury bathroom with all the amenities found in a five star penthouse suite. G stared at the new walk-in shower.

"All the water saving features you love."

"The shower head is huge." He walked into the earth toned, slate tiled shower and noticed the floor was warm. "Radiant heat. Love it." G stood under the square shower head, staring up at its size.

"Big enough for the two of us to stand under it together." Sam stepped behind his lover and drew him back into his body. "Nice."

"You mean my ass, right."

"That too." Sam chuckled.

"I want you to make love to me."

"Under the shower head… wet, clean fun." Sam nuzzled his face into G's neck and sucked on his skin, leaving a hickey.

G sighed. "I love when you mark me."

"More to come."

"I hope so." He chuckled.

Sam trailed kisses down his lover's body and caressed his heated buttocks.

G froze, his mouth gaping open. He jerked away from his partner and stumbled forward.

Sam grabbed him by the waist.

"Shit!"

"Easy, what is—"

"Let me go." He jerked away from Sam again and glommed onto the nearest shower bench to balance himself. G lowered himself to the bench. "Just don't do anything more."

Sam sat beside him.

"Memory, damned memories." G sighed. "I was starting to enjoy that."

"Doesn't make sense."

"It does."

"This about Jarvis?"

"Damn it, you would have to say his name." He leaned over and buried his face in his hands. "I never thought anything happened with him in a shower. I only remembered what occurred in the underground shelter."

"Let's go cuddle on the bed."

"No."

"What?"

"I want to remember what happened," G said. "I want to get triggered."

"That's crazy."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." G stood and walked over to the shower head. "How do you turn this on?" he asked, looking for the traditional knobs.

"All remote control." He handed one of two controllers to his partner.

"Fancy." G turned on the shower head labeled number one. "I hope this is right." Water cascaded over his body. He set the remote on a shelf. "Feels great."

Sam stepped behind him, grabbing some soap and washing his partner's back.

G flipped around and pushed Sam away from him.

"Easy."

"Damn this memory."

"What are you seeing?"

"What I'm seeing can't possibly be true because I don't remember any of it."

Sam lowered his voice. "He was in your house."

"Damn it, yes, but how and when. This doesn't make sense."

"Lean back into me and close your eyes."

G followed Sam's idea, hoping he would not get too triggered by the position. Being near his partner in the shower triggered him enough.

"Remember your breathing."

"That's a given, I have to breathe." G chuckled, trying to lighten the situation.

"You know what I meant."

G sighed and attempted to relax into his partner. His mind had a different agenda. As soon as he relaxed the memory came back in living color. G jerked away from his partner again.

Sam brought his partner backward into him. "You're safe."

"Don't… please… don't." He jerked his body again, trying to gain freedom. The images from the assault which occurred in his old shower filled his mind, his senses, and his body. G jerked again.

Sam redoubled his efforts, holding his partner tighter against him. "Let it come."

"I need you to hold me."

"I'm holding you."

"No, in your arms on the bed… I can't stand this… damn it… it's here."

Sam lead him out of the shower, turning it off with the second remote and grabbing several towels.

"Don't touch me in here."

"Got you." He laid towels on the bed and they climbed on top of them and cuddled. "Warm enough?"

"Perfect. Hold me closer."

Sam wrapped his arms around G and drew him tight against him. "You're safe."

"What about Jarvis? You never told me what happened to him. That report was all about her."

"From what I understand, he's the only person left to pin charges on and he's talking up a storm, knowing he'll be in a federal prison for years to come."

G sighed. "Maybe it's not important for me to share this then."

"Trying to get out of talking to me about this."

"Yes, I can only hope you'd let it slide."

"Really, me let this slide, come on, G, you should know by now that's not happening."

G got a sheepish grin on his face.

Sam tenderly kissed him on the lips.

"He raped me in the shower. Happy?"

"I'm not happy about this."

"You know what I meant," G said.

"Yes, I did."

"I'm glad you changed the bathroom," he said. "I wasn't expecting it and I think that's why the memory came out. I completely blocked the rape and I don't know… shit… hold me tight again." More images flashed before his eyes. He squeezed them shut and gritted his teeth.

"Breathe, man, you need to breathe."

"I can see him standing at the foot of my bed."

"How far before the accident?"

"Don't remember." G took a couple of slower breaths and focused on relaxing his body. "He's in my house. It's night time. He's standing there talking to me. I'm trying to understand him. I'm half asleep. I fumble for my weapon under my pillow." G sighed. "He shows me the weapon, dangling it over the bed and emptying the cache. I freak out inside, knowing this guy's been in my house for a while before I notice him. I think, not sure though, damn, I feel drugged."

"Possible."

"I can't clear my head. I can't understand his words. I see his mouth moving but I can't understand him." G reminded himself to breathe. The anxiety increased in his whole body as the images became clearer. "He drags me off the bed and hauls me into the shower. I cannot fight him. Got to be drugged. He rapes me in the shower and everywhere in my house. Rapes me until I'm bleeding and passed out on my bed." G sighed. "He leaves a note beside my head. In the distance, I hear the door slam shut."

Sam caressed his partner's back. "I'm sorry the bastard got to you like this."

"The note says he'll be back to finish the job."

"So this was how long before the accident?"

"About a week."

"You were raped and told no one."

"I took care of it, okay, I brought this on myself."

"What? That's crap and you know it."

G pulled back and gazed into this partner's eyes. "If I never would have met the bitch—"

"Great, 20/20 hindsight, come on, man, you know that isn't going to fly with me."

"Okay, stupid idea."

"Very stupid, G, you can't blame yourself for this one."

"How about this then, shit happens."

"With that bitch, yes, I'll buy that," Sam said. "I need to call Hetty about this."

"No way in hell."

"That's why you asked me about Jarvis." He sighed. "This needs to be reported."

"If they need proof—"

"Damn it, G, Hetty not going to ask for proof."

The sheepish grin spread over his face again.

Sam kissed him.

"Do it before I change my mind… again."

He rolled onto his back and opened the nightstand drawer, pulling out his cellphone.

G cuddled up closer to him and shuddered.

"You cold?"

"Yes."

"Let's get these wet towels off the bed and snuggle under the covers." After tossing the towels on the counter in the bathroom, he tucked G under the covers and climbed underneath them too. Sam wrapped an arm around his partner's shoulders. "We good?"

"Still cold."

Sam turned up the heat.

"I love that fireplace."

He autodialed Hetty's number and talked to her for twenty minutes before disconnecting the cellphone.

"That was a long call."

"She told me about Jarvis's situation and how this would alter his reduced sentence to a longer one once more."

"Good, he deserves whatever comes his way."

"That's a healthy response."

"Maybe someone will get their punishment without offing themselves to escape it."

"From what I saw, Jarvis isn't the type to commit suicide."

"Nope, he's the type who'll be the rapist in prison."

"Maybe not, you never know what will happen in a prison setting."

"I'd like to hear how someone turned him into their bitch." G chuckled.

"That's one wicked image." Sam chuckled and brought G into his side, cuddling him closer. "Thank you for trusting me with that memory. You changed the locks on your doors and got an alarm system for house after that."

"Call me paranoid."

"I would've done the same thing."

"Right, a burly and strong man like you would—"

"G, he drugged you while you slept, right?"

"No."

"When then?"

"I came home after work and grabbed my milk carton," G said, remembering the strange after taste of the milk. "I sat on the couch and fell asleep for a bit. Later, I climbed into bed. I felt ill. It came on suddenly."

"This is premeditated."

"You think?" G smirked.

Sam autodialed Hetty.

"You don't need to—"

"It's important that she knows what they're dealing with in this case."

"Great." G sighed and folded his arms.

"Sorry." He talked to Hetty for five minutes and shut the phone off.

"At least she didn't talk your head off this time."

Sam chuckled. "She agreed with me, this changes the rape charges," he said. "Come here and get a bear hug." Sam set the phone aside and drew G into him with both arms.

"Don't you mean a bare hug?" G chuckled.

"You're full of it."

"Feeling better," he said. "I knew something happened in my house. I'd come home and get the creeps but the memory was gone. I changed the locks and got the alarm system and couldn't remember why I did it."

"That's strange, complete amnesia for the rape."

"Okay, Doctor Hanna, I believe you've crossed the line into a realm—"

"That's what it's called, G, amnesia."

"I was joking."

"I was not."

"Too serious."

Sam rolled G onto his back and covered him with his body. "Now where were we."

"You're squishing me."

"Would you rather have me turn you over onto your stomach?"

"My sore butt couldn't handle it."

"Didn't think so." Sam chuckled. "How about trying out the bear rug?"

"Sounds romantic." G wrapped his arms around Sam's neck and pulled him down for a passionate kiss. "I'm officially turning up the heat."


End file.
